


Kibu's Dragon Age Fictober 2020 Collection

by Kibu



Series: Kibu's Fictober Challenge Collection [3]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Fictober 2020, Fluff, Multi, One Shot Collection, Shorts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 21,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibu/pseuds/Kibu
Summary: A collection of short Dragon Age one-shots courtesy of the 2020 Fictober prompt list.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Tamvir Lavellan, Female Hawke/Isabela, Fenris/Male Hawke, Garrett Hawke/Fenris, Male Inquisitor/Dorian Pavus, Male Lavellan/Dorian Pavus, Marian Hawke/Isabela, Zevran Arainai/Kieris Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Male Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden
Series: Kibu's Fictober Challenge Collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1512347
Comments: 14
Kudos: 20





	1. Prompt #1: "No, come back!"

**Prompt:** 01\. No, come back!  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins  
**Characters/Pairings:** ZevWarden (Zevran Arainai and Kieris Mahariel), Kieris's mabari (Davalin)  
**Warnings:** None

Zevran was pacing. Had anyone accused him of doing so he would deny it to his last breath, but he was definitely pacing. Davalin, his Warden lover's faithful mabari, watched his every step. The dog's only commentary was a huge, whining yawn before resting his head on his paws.

"I'm not worried," Zevran immediately told him. He turned sharply on one heel to glare at the bored, wholly unruffled mabari. "He can be a little silly sometimes, yes, but he is also not stupid. Well, usually. Sometimes he makes stupid decisions, but that doesn't mean he's-- this is beside the point."

Davalin, being a dog, said nothing. He simply raised his eyebrows and gave a soft whine. That seemed to be enough for Zevran, who resumed his pacing but this time drew a dagger to also begin picking under his fingernails.

"Only he can deal with this _Warden business_ , no?" The acid in Zevran's voice made Davalin's short-cropped ears pin back. "That leaves you and me to wait for him."

Davalin gave a short bark, managing to sound scathing, and lumbered to his feet. He gave Zevran a long, intentional stare before wheeling around and barging out the door. The sound of Davalin's toenails clicking on the polished floors was rapidly receding before Zevran's surprise faded enough for him to react.

"Wait, you stupid-- Davalin, no!" Zevran sheathed his dagger in a flash and took off after the dog. "Come back!"

Not only was the mabari shockingly fast, but he had a head start. Zevran dashed past startled maids and a handful of alarmed footmen. He vaulted a tea cart and kept running as soon as his feet touched the stone. Ahead of him, he could hear Davalin's excited barks and the commotion that came in their wake. Catching up to the mabari, however, proved itself full-on impossible.

Had they been outdoors, Davalin running along the ground and Zevran able to use the rooftops to his advantage, it may have been a different story. As it was, however, when Zevran skidded to a halt in his beautifully tooled boots, Davalin had beaten him handily. The mabari was gleefully slobbering on his master's knee, his entire back end wagging with the delight of tracking him down. Kieris looked up at Zevran's unnecessarily dramatic entrance and grinned ruefully.

"I guess I am a little late, aren't I?" he asked, violet eyes twinkling despite genuine apology coloring his voice.

"We aren't finished, Warden-Commander," the other man in the room was quick to point out. He had ramrod straight posture and wore the blue and silver armor that made Grey Wardens so recognizable. He also had one of the most impressive mustaches Zevran had ever seen on a human. It was almost dwarven in its coiffure.

Kieris, on the other hand, was lounging on a chair beside the paper- and book-laden table, dressed in the same worn Dalish leathers that none of the ranking officials had been able to get him to change. Considering he had been the one to land the final blow and end the recent Blight, there were at least a few things that even his superior Warden overseers were willing to let slide. For now.

Of course, anyone who thought they could easily control the vaunted Hero of Ferelden would be in for a surprise. "I think we can take a break," Kieris suggested, getting to his feet and stretching his arms high over his head. "We've been in here _all day_. And even if we come to an agreement, you're going to make me spend all of tomorrow in here too, right?" His eyebrows lifted, the smile still playing on his lips as he looked askance of the Orlesian Warden. What had his name been again? Ah, right. _Aldric_.

"This is not something you can simply shrug off and walk away from!" Aldric protested, slamming one gloved hand down on the table. "We must gather every Warden and make haste. If you would _listen to reason_ , rather than questioning my every word, we would already be on our way and wouldn't require another day of discussion!"

Kieris tipped his head to the side. His smile didn't fade, but his eyes were hard as amethyst. Zevran was well aware of that look. "We do things differently in Ferelden," he said, still genial. "If I'd known it was so easy to get you to shut up, I would have done this a long time ago." He took a breath and squared his shoulders, his entire demeanor shifting. "You and the other Wardens of Orlais can do as you feel is needed in regard to this matter. As far as Ferelden is concerned, I'll advise those under me about Weisshaupt's request. It's up to each individual if they choose to go or if they prefer to stay."

Aldric opened his mouth to speak but Kieris, even standing a full head shorter than the Orlesian, silenced him with just an upraised hand. "We're still dealing with everything that's happened. And given the Call--" he hesitated, the Commander facade cracking briefly as Kieris glanced in Zevran's direction. "I will not give orders for everyone to answer that summons. My decision is final. Good day to you, Ser Aldric." Kieris gave a curt salute and let his hand drop to rest atop his mabari's head. As one, man and dog turned and left the room without another word.

"What--" Aldric sputtered. His face was turning an impressive shade of red that shaded nearer to purple.

Zevran gave him an exaggerated bow. "You'll have to excuse mi amor. He's a little, shall we say... incredibly stubborn. I'm afraid that is all you're going to get from him now, my friend."


	2. Prompt #02: "That's the easy part"

**Prompt:** 02\. That's the easy part  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
 **Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
 **Warnings:** Blood, I suppose

They'd walked back in silence. Fenris was still spattered with blood and other substances, and Hawke had a broad streak of it across his face - little wonder why they'd been stopped by the guard. At least it had only been Donnic, who'd let them go with a simple 'never mind, I don't want to know' and a warning to get cleaned up. Hawke could already tell that Fenris had slid down into a brown study. What was eating him, though, was still uncertain.

Only once they'd stepped into the crumbling foyer of Fenris's borrowed home did the elf seem to realize that he wasn't alone. "You should go home," he offered, finally breaking what Varric would cheerfully refer to as _brooding_.

"I wanted to make sure you didn't go walking yourself into a wall," Hawke quipped. Not that he was entirely joking. "Or in this place, step on a loose floorboard and disappear into the underworld."

"Mm." Still distracted, Fenris kept going without forbidding Hawke from following. And so he did, trailing in Fenris's wake like an overgrown and bloody puppy until they reached the only semi-livable room left in the place.

Hawke waited by the doorway, watching as Fenris went about his priorities. First Fenris stoked the fire back to life and added more fuel, then he went to the table and cleared its top with his arm in order to clean and care for his massive sword. He did absolutely nothing to take care of or clean up himself. 

Hawke took matters into his own hands.

Taking a bucket, Hawke filled it with water from the rain barrel outside. His own superheated hand plunged into the bucket was more than enough to get the water to a comfortable temperature, and back in Fenris's room, it was easy enough to locate a relatively clean scrap of cloth. Thus armed, Hawke sat on the bench next to Fenris and began dabbing at the worst of the blood that darkened his white hair.

Fenris jumped and made an aborted grab for the sword's hilt. "What are you doing?" he asked warily, though he didn't flinch a second time as Hawke continued to attempt to clean him.

Hawke picked a piece of something slimy out of Fenris's hair and grimaced."If you leave that, it's going to start to smell." He was sorely tempted to simply upend the bucket over Fenris's head, but decided against it. He would need that water, and he also didn't want to be immediately and forcibly removed from the house. Mostly the second bit.

"Why does it matter? There's just going to be more the next time." Fenris was scowling, and his lithe body went rigid when the cloth was rubbed over his neck. A second later and he swatted Hawke's arm away. "There's no reason for you to do this."

"Why not?" Yet Hawke didn't try to push him. He dunked the cloth and wrung it out and began mopping the mess on his own face. "You clean your blade. Why not yourself?"

Fenris's shoulders hunched. It looked like he was trying to make himself smaller. "Cleaning my sword serves a purpose. Blood will ruin the metal and reduce the life of the blade if I don't remove it."

"A fair point. But don't you think it's just as bad to leave it on you, too? You're not made of metal, but the constant reminder of battle and death would corrode anyone's psyche." Hawke shrugged and ran a hand over his damp beard, hoping he got the worst out of it. He'd need a real bath at some point.

"Why do you care?" The tone of the question was different. It changed the atmosphere of the room entirely, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. There was no accusation; no spite or fire. The question was beat down and ragged, spoken by someone who dared not trust but yearned to be able to.

Hawke sat down on the bench and looked up at Fenris. "You see, that's the easy part," he said gently. "I care about you because I like you. Call me crazy if you want. There's no one else I'd rather have at my back in a fight, though. Not to mention nobody else appreciates my jokes like you do." He gave an exaggerated pout, which drew a chuckle from Fenris before the elf quickly cleared his throat and glanced away.

"You really are a strange man, Hawke," Fenris replied. The tension drained out of the room, leaving only the two of them and the merrily crackling hearth. After a moment, Fenris plucked the cloth from the bucket and began swabbing alongside Hawke's nose.

Hawke didn't argue. He closed his eyes and lifted his chin slightly, giving Fenris free rein to take care of any missed spots as he saw fit. The cloth continued to drag across Hawke's skin and even gently over his beard.

"I could easily kill you like this," Fenris pointed out. He said it so nonchalantly that Hawke couldn't help but chuckle.

"You could," he agreed. "But you wouldn't. Because whether you admit it or not, you like me too. Even my bad jokes."

Fenris huffed a breath through his nose. Hawke cracked an eye open to see the rare smile turn up the corner of his mouth. Perhaps it had been a chuckle of a sort. "I suppose I don't mind you and your terrible jokes from time to time. You certainly do make life _interesting_ when you're around."


	3. Prompt #03: "You did this?"

**Prompt:** 03\. You did this?  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
 **Warnings:** None

Ginger lashes brushed freckled cheeks, the tickle they raised serving just enough sensation to once again rouse Tamvir from his near slumber. Josephine was still talking. He jerked his head up and opened his eyes wide to try to convince his unwilling body to stay awake. Considering the light had long since faded outside the windows, and Tam had first arrived in her office shortly after the noon meal, there was no wonder he could now barely process the words that came from her in a steady stream.

Tam's head dipped again and his chin touched his chest. Turning to quiz him,, Josephine caught his nod before he could feign attention. "Tamvir, what--" that was when she seemed to notice how dark it was outside, and that one of the many unobtrusive servants had come through and lit the lamps while she was lecturing. She had the grace to look chagrined. "Oh. I see. I'm sorry, Tamvir, I simply lost track of the time. Why don't you head up to your quarters and I'll have supper sent up for you? We can return to this on the morrow."

Tam wanted to disagree, to insist that he was fine, really, but the enormous yawn that threatened to split his head in half was too much proof against that. All he could do was give a sleepy, sheepish nod. "Thank you. I'd like that very much." His stiff limbs protested as he levered himself up from his seat. Like a gangly new halla colt he tottered to the door and let himself out. The last thing Tam wanted was for Josephine to have the chance to change her mind and call him back.

He stuck close to the walls and kept his head down. Being Dalish worked to his advantage, since many of those who milled about Skyhold as if it were some fascinating tourist destination would see his pointed ears and automatically dismiss him as one of the servants. While it chafed in its own way, Tam tended to prefer it to being accosted when all he wanted was the sanctuary of his tower. Quick and quiet, he hurried the last few meters and ducked through the doorway before anyone could try to stop him.

Even if they recognized him, it was too late. Tam sighed in relief and started up the stairs. With luck, Josephine would have something sent up shortly. Now that he was more awake he was _ravenous_. He could change clothes, do a little light workout to loosen up his complaining muscles, and hopefully by that point food would be ready. And then he could get some sleep.

As Tam pushed open the door at the top of the stairs, he was greeted by light. The fireplace in his room had been lit, as had the lamps. The window-like glass doors that led out to the balcony were open as well, letting in the cool breeze and making the whole room smell fresh and inviting. Tam smiled and took a deep, grateful breath.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty?" Dorian asked, rising from the sofa he'd been lounging on and nearly giving Tam a heart attack in the process. His warm gray eyes gave Tam a once-over glance and he smiled apologetically. "There's food as well," he offered. "You were with Josephine so long I assumed you hadn't eaten yet."

The exhaustion from early melted away and Tam took the last steps two at a time. He flung himself into Dorian's arms and held him tightly. "How am I lucky enough to have someone like you?" He marveled, lifting his head enough to look up into Dorian's face. The corners of the other man's eyes crinkled in the most charming way when he smiled, the expression almost doubled by the presence of his magnificent mustache.

"I _am_ perfect, aren't I?" Dorian asked, preening slightly under Tam's gaze. His grip tightened around Tam for a brief second before he let go and moved just to take his hand and tug him to where a covered tray waited on the cleared-off desk.

"Yes." Tam agreed, knowing full well that Dorian hadn't been serious. "Should I tell everyone that you did this? Then they'll know just what a good man you truly are."

Dorian laughed and leaned down to steal a kiss. Forehead to forehead he caught Tam's gaze once more. "Let's not, shall we? Spreading such stories would simply _ruin_ my terrible reputation."


	4. Prompt #04: "That didn't stop you before"

**Prompt:** 04\. That didn't stop you before  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** ZevWarden (Zevran Arainai and Kieris Mahariel), Merrill, Fenris (FenHawke implied)  
 **Warnings:** None

Kieris was on edge. While he had nothing particularly _against_ Kirkwall, it didn't have much going for it, either. The letter he'd received had given him just enough information to make him exceedingly uncomfortable - that was how he found himself slipping through Kirkwall's alienage with Zevran close behind him. Coming to a halt in front of what he hoped was the right door, Kieris gave it a sharp knock.

Unlike Kieris, the elf who opened the door didn't look remotely unsettled. "You're here!" Merrill exclaimed, grabbing Kieris's hands and giving them a squeeze. He was pretty sure she'd only barely restrained herself from outright hugging him like the last time they'd crossed paths. "Oh, I have so much to tell you!"

"As much as I'd love to catch up, lethallan, I--"

"Fenris!" Merrill looked past Kieris, cutting him off in her surprise at his accompaniment. "And... I know we've met! Don't tell me, don't tell me..." Despite her words, her thoughtful pause lasted longer than any of the three men was willing to wait.

"His name is Zevran." Fenris scowled. He was easily the most impatient of them all; considering he held the reason they were even there, it made sense. "But that doesn't matter."

"Zevran! That's right!" Merrill beamed at the blond elf before glancing back to Fenris. "You're awfully grumpy. Is everything alright? Where's Hawke?"

"That's why we're here." As much as Kieris did love Merrill, as with all siblings and like-siblings, sometimes she drove him crazy. "You told me before that you had that mirror. Do you still have it?"

Merrill's scowl was almost as deep as Fenris's, her green eyes crackling with anger. "You told me to destroy it," she told Kieris tartly. "You said it was _evil_ and I shouldn't have salvaged it."

Kieris nodded. "You're right, I did. And you knew all that when you went and got it in the first place, so obviously that didn't stop you before. Do you still have it or not?"

"Yes, I still have it." Merrill crossed her arms over her chest, but her expression faltered. "But I suppose you all had better come inside." She ushered them in and closed the door behind them, then drew a plank of wood across to lock it. The place was surprisingly homey on the interior, filled with flowers and greenery and little mementos of Dalish life. Kieris wasn't sure if he was _pleased_ or _disappointed_ that the mirror was nowhere to be seen.

Fenris, understandably, was all business. As soon as the door was shut, he demanded, "Where is it?"

"Fenris, I know we've never really been the best of friends, but do _you_ have to go jumping down my throat too?" Merrill gave the three of them a look that was a mix of sad and cross. "Come on, then. I'll show you the eluvian."

"This _eluvian_ ," Zevran began, trailing at the back as they followed Merrill to a room off the main living space. "Does it work?"

Aside from the large bed in one corner, the room where Merrill led them was dominated by a large, shimmering mirror. The frame that held it was covered in intricate details of golden vines that snaked over and held tight to the smooth glass. Kieris's breath caught painfully in his throat as his heart tried to hammer its way through his ribcage at the sight of it. Something so simple as a mirror had changed the entire course of so many lives. And it had cost Tamlen his.

Kieris was dimly aware of Merrill and Fenris talking, but their voices sounded far away and underwater. It wasn't until a warm hand slid into his own that he was able to begin to claw his way out of the suffocating sea of memories. Clarity returned to his sight, showing him Zevran's concerned golden eyes even as the start of a relieved smile curved the other man's lips.

"There you are," Zevran murmured and gave Kieris's hand a squeeze.

"I don't care if there's a chance it might not work." Fenris's voice was an angry growl, and small flickers of light emanated from his lyrium tattoos. "I'm going to try. I can't just leave him there!"

"I agree with you." Merrill stepped away from Fenris in order to retrieve the staff that leaned against the wall near the foot of her bed. "Are all three of you going? It would be best if someone stayed behind in order to keep an eye on things. And since I know eluvians the best of us, it might be a good idea if that person is me." She paused, then sighed heavily and gazed toward the mirror with a thousand-mile stare. "Even if I _hate_ staying behind. Poor Hawke."

"We'll find him," Zevran promised, reaching out with his free hand to pat Merrill's shoulder. "Do not worry. With the three of us on the case, the Fade should be far more frightened than any of us."

"Oh, I do hope you are right." Merrill closed her eyes and concentrated, magic swirling around her like glittering dust motes. A moment later she reached out and touched the surface of the mirror, a whispered word vanishing in the still air, and the mirror's surface rippled like the surface of a glassy pond. "Alright. If it's going to work, then it will work. _Please_ be careful. All of you."

Kieris smiled and gave her a wink. He tried to project a confidence he didn't feel and ignore the freezing cold that was creeping up from his fingers and toes. "Don't worry. We'll be back before you know it, and with one more in tow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in a later prompt


	5. Prompt #05: "Unacceptable, try again"

**Prompt:** 05\. Unacceptable, try again  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan), Cremisius Aclassi  
 **Warnings:** None

So far, the efforts to get away from Skyhold and just be _ordinary_ for a little while were working. It felt like it had been an entire lifetime since Tamvir had felt so at peace. And of all the shocking places he could be, he was in the middle of a shemlen city, with his shemlen boyfriend, and there was absolutely nowhere else he'd rather be.

"Enjoying yourself?" Dorian asked with a chuckle. He lowered the book he'd been leafing through in order to look down at Tam, who was sprawled halfway over his bare chest.

Tam continued trailing his fingers over the warm, lightly furred skin, but turned his head to give Dorian a smile. "Yes. How could I not be?"

"I had a feeling." Dorian reached out one hand to stroke Tam's hair back from his face, pausing to cup his cheek and trace his thumb over Tam's lower lip. "You were humming."

"I know." Tam nuzzled against Dorian's hand in order to press a kiss into his palm. "I was thinking about how nice it is just to have some time alone with you. No responsibilities, no paperwork, nobody knocking on the door to tell me they need my opinion on something--"

As if summoned by his words, a knock at their inn room door made both men jump. Tam felt his whole body tense up and he saw Dorian's smile instantly change to a frown, his dark brows knitting in a way that boded ill for whoever was attempting to interrupt them.

"Put some clothes on!" Krem called from outside the door. "I've got a message from the Chief and I'm not allowed to leave until I give it to you."

Tam grimaced. As much as he loved his friend and enjoyed seeing him, he knew that any message coming to him from Skyhold was bound to be bad news. The Iron Bull was the only person Tam had told where he would be staying, and that was only in case of an emergency where he was needed. Such contingencies were a requirement when one was the only person capable of doing certain things like sealing rifts.

With a heavy sigh, Tam removed himself from his delightfully comfortable position and crawled to the edge of the bed. He found Dorian's shirt on the floor and pulled it over his head, the garment large enough on his smaller frame to offer the required amount of modesty. Although he could hear Dorian grumbling behind him, Tam unlocked the door and opened it just enough to see Krem's face.

Krem gave a knowing grin. "Sorry to interrupt."

"I'm sure you are," Dorian said wearily, stepping up behind Tam with nothing but a sheet wrapped around his waist. Somehow that made everything a dozen times more embarrassing.

His face flaming, Tam tried to keep things on track. "Am I needed?" he asked, proud of himself for keeping the disappointment out of his voice. He and Dorian had been gone for less than a full day. Surely Skyhold could have gone a day without a disaster?

"The Chief wanted me to let you know that a new group from Orlais showed up right after you left. They're demanding an audience." Judging from Krem's rolled eyes and the disgusted set of his mouth, his feelings aligned closely to Tam's own about the news.

"Well, that's just unacceptable," Dorian sniffed. "Tell them to go away and try again another time. The Inquisitor is _otherwise occupied_."

"If I have to do it, that's part of my job, Dorian," Tam began, but Krem cut him off before he could continue.

"Actually, no offense, but that's only the first half of the message. The second half is from the Chief and Lady Leliana both. They want you to stay here for at least the next week." Krem winked. "Nobody can argue the 'important Inquisition business' you're supposedly out doing. I'll be back to get you in a week or whenever it's safe, whichever is later."

It took Tam a moment to realize that his mouth had dropped open and to close it with an audible snap. "You... they want me to stay here on purpose?"

Krem nodded. "Lady Leliana and Lady Josephine both think you deserve the break. They can handle things while you're gone." He paused, then added, "Oh, and Lady Leliana also wanted me to tell you that your attempts at sneaking out are 'cute' and she admires that you'd try."

"You have to admit it was worth an attempt." Dorian shrugged, unfazed that they hadn't escaped Leliana's net of eyes.

"Anyway, that's all I've got for you. Have a good time, alright?" Krem winked. "And remember, you're not allowed to come back to Skyhold."

"I understand." Still, when Tam closed the door and threw the lock again, he stayed with his hand on the latch in stunned silence.

Dorian's hands snaked around Tam's middle and pulled him back against him. The sheet had dropped to the floor, leaving every inch of warm skin exposed and inviting. "I think we can keep busy for a week, don't you?"

The realization that they weren't just _running away_ from obligation hit Tam in a heady rush and he laughed, snuggling into the embrace. "That is a task I intend to take on with pleasure."


	6. Prompt #06: "That was impressive"

**Prompt:** 06\. That was impressive  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
 **Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris), Hawkebela (Marian Hawke and Isabela)  
 **Warnings:** A little bit of lewd talk, nothing elaborated though  
 **Notes:** Universe alteration where Garrett and Marian are twins

It didn't take much to get the Hawkes to let loose and unwind. A few drinks at the Hanged Man and one could talk Marian and Garrett into all sorts of amusing mischief. Nothing bad or dangerous, mind, but playful challenges among friends.

At the moment, Garrett and Marian were locked into an intense battle. They stared each other down over the table, teeth gritted, sweat beading on their brows. After a tense few more seconds, Marian slammed Garrett's hand down to the table and grinned. "You rely on magic too much, brother. Those arms of yours are just for show!"

"I'll have you know they're perfectly capable of everything I need them for," Garrett replied. Despite losing he was just as cheerful as Marian, though he rubbed the bicep of the arm he'd been using and tried to hide a grimace. "Fenris isn't that heavy."

Fenris choked on his ale. "Hawke!" he sputtered, red-faced.

"Yes?" Marian and Garrett asked in unison. Fenris just scowled and looked away, his reddened ears lowered in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, Fenris," Isabela said, patting him on the back on her way to go curl her arms around Marian's shoulders. "Garrett doesn't kiss and tell. _Unfortunately_." She shot Garrett a look of pure disappointment before burying her face into Marian's neck.

"As opposed to Marian, who could stand to learn from his discretion." There were certain times where one didn't need to see Fenris's face to guess his expression; his tone gave him away.

Garrett and Marian shared a glance and Marian waggled her eyebrows suggestively. Her brother started to laugh but managed to smother it with a cough. "I mean. I will admit there have been certain things I could have gone without knowing."

"Oh?" Isabela looked up and arched an eyebrow. "That sounds like a _challenge_ to me. Which things might you be talking about, Garrett? The time we broke the banister, or when she went down on me in the back row during a Chantry service?" Isabela's smirk took on a tinge of fondness.

"Wait, wait," Garrett said, watching the way Fenris's swiveled to listen. "You did _what_ in the Chantry?"

Marian snickered. "Why, Garrett! Do you really want the sordid details?"

"Color me morbidly curious." Garrett tapped his fingers against his tankard and propped his chin on the other hand. "So, I suppose the Grand Cleric wasn't the only one giving a _service_ that day? I bet that was impressive."

"I have never sung such high praises to my goddess." Isabela hadn't moved from her position of snuggling into Marian from behind. As she spoke, one hand crept up beneath the hem of Marian's shirt. The eldest of the Hawke siblings purred and leaned into her.

Garrett glanced over at Fenris, who had given in and looked in their direction again. The elf's ears flattened. "No. I can see that look in your eyes. _No_."

Laughing, Garrett shook his head. "No, I agree. That's not something I'd want to do." While Garrett had been distracted by Fenris, Isabela had seated herself in Marian's lap. The pair of them had not a single care that they were attracting more than a few stares from other patrons of the tavern.

Fenris scoffed. "Well, then... good. Don't go getting any funny ideas."

Garrett scooted closer and curled an arm around Fenris's waist. It wasn't the intimate display that his sister and her girlfriend were putting on, but it was anything but a platonic embrace. "I have plenty of ideas," he murmured quietly, breath skimming over Fenris's ear. "They just don't involve being in _public_."

"Hmm." Fenris put up a good front, but even as he feigned disinterest he was melting into Garrett's muscular arms. "That could be acceptable."

"I was hoping you'd say that." Garrett pulled back and winked. "Come on," he beckoned, getting to his feet. Marian and Isabela were too wrapped up in each other to care. "I think the most scandalous thing we could do to get back at them right now is borrow Isabela's room, don't you?"

"I don't care if you're already in there, Garrett," Marian warned between the long, heated kisses. "You keep to one side of the bed and we'll take the other."

Garrett hummed and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It _is_ a rather big bed."

Fenris's nose wrinkled and he quickly vacated the table. He was halfway across the room before Garrett hurried after him. "Fenris, wait! You _know_ I wasn't being serious!"

By the time Garrett made his way outside, Fenris was nowhere to be seen. Huffing a breath, he shoved his hands in his pockets. His boyfriend had left, and he had no desire to go back in and watch his sister lead up to getting lucky. There was nothing for it but to call it a night and head home.

A noise down the alley nearby gave Garrett pause. He turned to look - a truly dangerous idea in a city like Kirkwall - and was dragged into the darkness. He saw a pair of luminous green eyes, then found himself pressed hard against the wall of the Hanged Man with Fenris kissing him breathless.

"Mm," Garrett managed. When Fenris had released him and he'd taken a few deep breaths into his aching lungs, he chuckled. "You're right. This is a much better idea."


	7. Prompt #07: "Yes I did, what about it?"

**Prompt:** 07\. Yes I did, what about it?  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Varric Tethras and Garrett Hawke (FenHawke implied)  
 **Warnings:** None

It was nice to be in a place that felt safe; at least, as 'safe' as anywhere could feel in a world where the sky was broken and demons lurked behind every shadowed tree trunk. Skyhold was the only place in a long while where Hawke didn't feel like he needed to look over his shoulder after every step he took. It was strategically placed high in the mountains, its walls were surprisingly sturdy, and the Inquisition forces took guarding the entrances seriously. Even a man like Hawke could breathe a little easier.

He still wasn't sure if it had been the best idea to leave Fenris behind. It had been his way of protecting Fenris from himself, yes, but maybe there could have been another way to do that. If Hawke made it out of this new escapade alive, he owed Fenris more than just an apology for doing that to him. And he would deserve every scrap of Fenris's very justified anger and hurt that was hurled at him. For now all he could do was cling to the knowledge that he _was_ protecting Fenris by not having him here at his side, and try to distract himself with other things instead of dwelling on how much he missed him.

"...And then, get this, it turns out that Cassandra is a big fan of my romance serial," Varric was saying. He laughed and Hawke joined in, trying to hide his chagrin at having been too lost in thought to hear the start of the story.

"You wrote a romance novel?" Hawke asked. He didn't have to feign his surprise. "You, the man who wrote Hard in Hightown? Which, if you think about it, would have been an _excellent_ title for a smutty romance."

Varric snickered. "Yeah, yeah, I get that all the time. No, the romance one is called Swords and Shields. It's got everything you need; Knight-captains, Guardsmen, torrid affairs."

The familiarity of the subject matter gave Hawke pause. He thought back to the book he'd seen sitting on the table in Varric's quarters when he'd first arrived at Skyhold and had been quickly squirreled away by his dwarven friend. He bit his lip and looked down at Varric in concern. "You based a filthy book on Aveline."

"Yes, I suppose I did." Varric shrugged, clearly not sharing Hawke's concern. "What about it?"

"Well, you do realize if she finds out about this she'll gut you like a fish?" Hawke asked, as if pointing out the obvious to a small child.

"Nahh, she would never!" Varric waved his hand as if clearing away smoke. "She'd have to read it first to have any idea. Besides, it says right inside the cover that any similarities to persons living or dead is _purely_ coincidental."

"Except for the part where you freely admit it."

Varric cleared his throat. "Yes, well... I wouldn't go telling _her_ that. Give me _some_ credit for keeping my own skin intact."

Hawke snorted a laugh, then turned to lean on the stone railing and look out over the courtyard of the enormous keep. Some of his underlying melancholy slipped unbidden into his voice. "...Mixed up in weird shit all over again. I wonder if it will ever really be over."

Varric didn't have quite the same vantage as Hawke did, not possessing the same long limbs, but he made himself comfortable nonetheless. "I'm just here to document more weird shit. Who knows, maybe I'll get my next best seller from writing about this kid."

"He's definitely putting together quite the army," Hawke agreed. He could see a little bit of the same aspect of Varric's version of his story, the infamous 'Tale of the Champion', in the base of the Inquisition. There wasn't the shadow of a doubt that Varric would end up having plenty to write about, all things considered. How _truthful_ it was would be anyone's guess, but he'd already proven that he could write outright fabrications and the general public would gleefully consume it. Hawke knew that from experience.

"I've heard a rumor that they've got a lead on the Hero of Ferelden. Now that's something that would sell like crazy - the Grey Warden that stopped the last Blight, everyone's favorite Champion, and a kid half the world seems to think is a divine Chosen One all getting together for an epic battle?" Varric gave a wink. "This is the kind of shit even I can't make up."

Hawke turned to put his back to the view, instead pinning Varric with his undivided attention. "You know, with all these books you're selling, I'm surprised you can't afford a shirt that fits properly."

Varric gave a mock gasp of surprise, one hand reaching up to press against his exposed chest. "How dare you? My fans would be horrified if I covered up their favorite thing about me."

"It's pure jealousy," Hawke said seriously, biting back a smile. "We all aspire to have such luxuriant chest hair."

"Oh, _stop_ ," Varric teased right back. "If you're looking for half the profits from the Tale of the Champion, you don't have to go trying to butter me up. I've got it all in an account waiting for you to just ask."

For all their teasing and bantering, Hawke knew when Varric was being truthful. This was one of those times. Hawke's eyes widened and his expression turned to one of surprise. "Varric, you know I'd never ask for anything like that. There are far better uses for that sort of money."

Again Varric smiled. It wasn't his joking smile, either. It was the worn, genuine smile of someone who had seen hell too many times. "I know. That's why both our cuts are _after_ what was donated to rebuild the Chantry and make sure the people affected by the disaster have been appropriately taken care of."

Hawke's chest tightened. He felt as if there was nothing he could do to make reparations for something he _should_ have prevented. But here was his best friend telling him about the efforts that had been done on his behalf. "You're the best, Varric."

"You're welcome, Hawke."


	8. Prompt #08: "I'm not doing that again"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Prompt #04

**Prompt:** 08\. I'm not doing that again  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** ZevWarden (Zevran Arainai and Kieris Mahariel), FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
 **Warnings:** Blood, NPC death, slavery

There was no way to know how long they'd been walking. The green-tinged landscape twisted and blurred around them, sometimes logical and other times bizarre, but never giving any indication of time passing. Fenris's skin prickled, the tattoos that covered it constantly glowing a faint, dull blue-white. He felt like a beacon to anything that happened to be watching from afar. It made the entire situation that much more uncomfortable.

Even if there was no path through the strange, murky world, Fenris felt a pull. It was the closest thing they had to a plan for finding Hawke, so they had agreed to let Fenris lead the way. He splashed through a knee-high puddle of standing water and tried to ignore how slimy the bottom felt against the soles of his feet. Kieris grumbled something behind him, his tone conveying his disgust despite the words not making it all the way to Fenris's ears. As they passed under a massive pile of rocks that arched over the water like a bizarre bridge, the sounds from Fenris's companions became fainter.

That was odd. The naturally-balanced rock slide formed something of a short tunnel, and the enclosed space ought to have amplified every sound. Fenris glanced behind to check on them, only to see... nothing. The rocks had silently irised closed behind Fenris after he'd passed through. And instead of being greenish-gray and lumpy, they were dirty white and symmetrical. Fenris's stomach dropped. Just the idea of turning back around to see what lay before him had him briefly paralyzed with sudden fear. Gathering his courage, Fenris turned to face the path ahead.

The familiar streets of Kirkwall were what greeted Fenris. Smoke billowed across war-torn alleyway of Lowtown, smoldering rubble and no few bodies strewn about as ash rained from the sky. Ahead of him, Fenris watched a young girl flee from a Templar in full armor. As the armored figure raised his sword, the child flung up her hands and transformed into the massive, lumbering form of a Pride demon. The demon grabbed the Templar in both hands and _pulled_. Despite averting his eyes, Fenris couldn't un-hear the sickening crunch of bone and metal.

Fenris pulled his sword, swallowing bile, and looked toward the scene again. The demon had vanished, leaving a new scattering of bodies in its wake. He approached cautiously. Just because he didn't see it didn't mean it wasn't a threat. Dirt and ash shifting under Fenris's feet made the trek difficult, but as he got closer to the carnage, he started to be able to make out more details of what now surrounded him.

The bodies that littered the stairs and as far as he could see down the path at the top weren't citizens of Kirkwall; they were Qunari. And not just any Qunari. The white body paint, the white clothes - _Fog Warriors_. There were dozens of them in various states of dismemberment, their bodies clearly all hacked apart with a massive sword. Fenris's knees buckled and he thought he was going to be sick. He could see the fog growing dense among jungle foliage, hear that hated voice in his ear laughing about what he had done.

Fenris's breath came fast, catching in his throat and making a wheezing sound. He wouldn't go back. He couldn't. He would die before he allowed himself to--

The ominous _click_ of a lock sounded in Fenris's ear as a painfully familiar, cold weight settled around his neck. He dropped his sword and clawed at the iron collar that threatened to choke him with its very presence. He was _free_! He would never again be held captive, a helpless slave programmed to only serve his master's will.

And yet.

Looking around his feet, the white features of the Fog Warriors began to change in the shifting haze of the fog. One became a beautiful Rivaini woman, her dark hair under a blue bandanna that was mostly darkened with her blood. Another was a dwarf, a mangled crossbow fallen at his side and a gouged out hole in the center of his chest. Fenris knew them. He knew... but their names escaped him like wisps of fog through his gauntleted hands. They had been important to him. They were friends?

" _Friends_ ," the familiar voice scoffed. It chilled Fenris to the bone, but at the same time it was comforting. "You have no use for _friends_ , my little wolf. See what you do to them?"

A hand stroked over Fenris's hair and he bristled, then calmed. A sense of peace washed over him, taking with it the last vestiges of remembrance. These people were nothing. They were the enemy that had threatened his master, and on his master's orders he had eliminated them. He was nothing but a weapon in his master's large arsenal.

"Good. You've done well. And I have _you_ to thank for returning him to me." Master was pleased. Fenris took comfort in that knowledge. He turned to return to his master's side, only to see another man standing with him.

The stranger was tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Despite the beard that covered the lower half of his face, he was strikingly handsome in a rugged, warm sort of way. He looked like someone who smiled wide and smiled often. Fenris's heart thudded heavily against his chest, his heart and his head suddenly blazing with the pain of recognition.

"Hawke," he said softly, his lips numb with shock.

"It's been my pleasure. I got everything I wanted out of him; it's only right I return him to his proper place." Hawke smiled the smile that Fenris knew so intimately and started to walk away, his staff in one hand like a walking stick.

Fenris willed himself to move, one foot and then the other. It was like running through a tub of tar, his feet sticking to the ground and dragging so he was moving in slow motion. Still, he persisted. He ignored the pull at his feet and the cold, clenching iron of the collar around his neck. "HAWKE!" he shouted. His lungs burned. "HAWKE!!!"

Hawke turned. His face was haggard, bloody, and smeared with gods-knew-what that matted his hair in places. The sky behind him was churning and strange, tinted with green and peppered with the odd floating rock. The Fade. "Fenris?"

Fenris could move again. The weight of his sword was at his back again, but the choking restraint around his neck was gone. He surged forward, bare feet slapping the rocky ground, and threw himself into Hawke. The man was solid, warm and real. His arms encircled Fenris's waist and pulled him close, where underneath the stink of whatever creatures he'd been fighting and a real need for a bath, he even _smelled_ like Hawke.

" _Fenris_ ," Hawke breathed, seeming to come to the same realization of reality. "How did you get here? What--"

"Are we still in our own personal hells, or have they all joined together now?" Zevran asked, sounded as drained as Fenris felt.

"I think we're through it," Kieris replied, his own voice shaky. "Fenris?"

Fenris didn't respond. He stayed where he was, hanging onto Hawke for dear life. Judging by the faint wheezing, he was holding on a little _too_ hard. One of Hawke's hands came up to stroke his hair and the side of his face.

"Fenris, my love... I can't breathe," he admitted. Fenris relented and eased his hold somewhat. "I don't suppose you three know a way out of here?"

"Merrill is holding the window open in Kirkwall," Kieris explained. Fenris could see him just out of the corner of his eye as he and Zevran approached. "We just have to go back the way we came."

"I'm not doing that again," Zevran said immediately. "I do not know what it was, but _no_. I will walk as far out of the way as I must if it means staying away from going through that another time."

Hawke grimaced. "The nightmares, right? I'd lie and say you get used to them, but that's not true. But if you've got a way out, I'll do anything you want." He looked down at Fenris and gave him an exhausted, but genuine, smile. "Take me home, Fenris. Please."


	9. Prompt #09: "Will you look at this?"

**Prompt:** 09\. Will you look at this?  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan), Varric Tethras  
 **Warnings:** None

Judging simply from the tumbled-down landscaping in the front of the chateau, it must have been abandoned. The front gate was ajar as well, a rusting lock and broken chain kicked into the bushes at the side of it. They had absolutely no reason to enter the empty house. No reason, that is, except for curiosity. With Dorian and Varric around, the little group had curiosity in spades.

Tam stuck close to Dorian, the glowing end of Dorian's staff providing much needed illumination in the darkened interior of the manor. Varric had found a candle, which he immediately lit, and was walking around examining the walls.

"It's definitely abandoned," Varric said thoughtfully. He raised the candle high in order to better see the portraits that hung in the parlor. The entryway had been completely cleared, likely by looters, but the parlor still contained what appeared to be the original furniture. It was in disarray, knocked about like a small storm had gone through, but it was still there. That alone was unusual.

"I can't help the strange feeling like we're being _watched_ ," Dorian commented, glancing uncertainly around the room. Tam shivered. Something about the house felt cold and _wrong_.

"Well, will you look at this?" Varric beckoned the other two over to where he was standing over and upturned chest of drawers. "Whoever lived here left in a hurry. And nobody's bothered to take this stuff for however many years it's been here!" The candle's flame glinted off an untidy pile of silver - several candlesticks, and what appeared to be a whole tea set.

As Varric reached down to pick up a piece of the little trove, his candle went out. "Andraste's tits. Old house like this left to its own devices, there must be a draft coming in from someplace."

When a candle suddenly flared to life on the other side, Tam barely stifled a yelp and even Varric jumped. Dorian paused, his grip tightening on his staff. "An easy trick for a mage," he explained. "There could be someone here who simply wants to scare away intruders and looters."

"So... if it's such an easy trick, did you do it?" Tam asked hopefully.

"Well, no," Dorian admitted. "But I'm sure it's nothing."

Varric stepped away from the silver and rested his hand on Bianca's stock. "I won't say this place isn't creepy, but we've seen worse. You aren't _scared_ are you, Ginger?"

Tam wet his lips and touched his hand to the small of Dorian's back. The tiny contact helped his racing heart. "W-Well..."

"You've faced down a hole in the sky, demons, the Fade, the entire Orlesian royal court - and you're afraid of a _candle_? You can't be serious." As if he hadn't been at all startled, Varric brushed his hands off on his trousers and re-lit the candle he carried. "Let's keep looking around. There has to be a reason why this place was abandoned."

Dorian offered Tam his hand, which Tam gratefully took, and they followed in Varric's wake as he headed deeper into the chateau.

"Dorian, there's something wrong with this place," Tam said softly. Varric was right; they had faced far more terrifying things before. But this was a whole different sort of unsettling.

They passed through the room to another hallway, again with walls adorned by portraits and other paintings of locations in Orlais. More candles suddenly lit in an alcove ahead of them, making Tam squeeze Dorian's hand hard enough to make the other man grunt. Varric stopped short.

"This again?" Varric asked. "They need a better trick."

As soon as he said it, he ducked. A leather-bound book flew through the space where Varric had just been standing, striking the opposite wall with an echoing thud. "...Well, I did ask," Varric said dryly. His voice shook slightly despite his continued attempts at brushing it off as nothing.

"Can we leave now?" Tam swallowed and drew a dagger with his free hand. Dorian gently tugged free of Tam's grip in order to bend down and pick up the fallen book.

"We still haven't figured anything out, though." Varric's candle snuffed out on its own again and he retreated to stand beside Tam and Dorian.

"Hm." Dorian pursed his lips, his staff held in the crook of his arm while he flipped through the pages of the book. "Actually, I think this might give us a considerable amount of information. It's a diary written by one of the owners of this place." Dorian snapped the book closed, making Tam jump and draw his second dagger. "...Sorry, amatus. Yes, we can leave for now. I'd like to get a better look at this."

Dorian was considerably calmer as they headed out, but Tam's heart still beat loudly in his ears until they were safely outside in the sunlight again. Tam heard Varric's sigh of relief as well. There was no argument as Tam led the little party well away from the grounds of the house, finding a small cluster of boulders that made a convenient spot to sit. Tam shivered and sheathed his weapons, trying not to look toward the manor in the distance.

As soon as they sat down to rest and breathe, Dorian was back to flipping through the book. After a moment, he made a triumphant noise. "The lord of the house had a mage daughter. Rather than educating her, she was hidden from the world. Most likely there's a demon somewhere in the house; we can go back in and dispatch it, or if you'd rather not..."

"I don't want to go back in there," Tam admitted. "Even if it's easily explained, it's _eerie_."

"Even my 'weird shit' meter is pretty high right now." Varric had pulled out a book of his own, but rather than reading, he was taking down notes. He glanced up at Tam and Dorian, then his gaze cut toward the chateau. "Someone's gonna have to deal with that eventually. But it doesn't have to be us."

There it was. Varric was giving him the perfect out, but Tam's sense of responsibility immediately rose to push back against it. He could have cried. Instead, he reluctantly said, "You're right. But I can't just walk away from this. I guess we're going back in."


	10. Prompt #10: "All I ever wanted"

**Prompt:** 10\. All I ever wanted  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
 **Warnings:** None

The times when they could go out as just the two of them really were the best times. Even if they were headed to go meet with the Arl of Redcliffe at Josephine's directive, Tam was grateful that he didn't have to bring an entire squadron with him down the mountain. He leaned into Dorian's chest, hands relaxed on the reins to give the hart its head, and sighed peacefully.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Dorian offered. His arms were warm and solid around Tam's waist. Presumably the hold was for Dorian's stability, but it always made Tam feel like he was the one being anchored.

"I'm just happy." Maybe it was too simple of a response to the question, but it was the truth. Tam smiled as Dorian leaned over him to rest his chin on Tam's shoulder. "I'm glad you're with me."

Dorian chuckled and kissed the side of Tam's neck. His mustache tickled and made Tam squirm pleasantly. "Me too. I honestly can't say this is anything I ever pictured for myself, but this is far better than any of those old thoughts." He inhaled against Tam's skin and then huffed another soft laugh. "Forced into a loveless marriage for the sake of appearances, or roaming the Southern countryside with the unexpected love of my life. How is a man to choose?"

"The love of your life," Tam repeated softly. "I never thought I'd be the love of anyone's life. Creators, I... all I ever wanted was just to be _seen_. Not that I ever want to be the center of attention or anything, that's not what I mean. I mean the concept of someone seeing every part of me, the bad and the good, and still wanting to be around me. Not for what I can do for them, but just because I'm me."

The arms around Tam's waist tightened slightly and drew him even closer against Dorian. "I would wish a curse upon everyone who ever made you feel like you weren't good enough," he murmured in Tam's ear. His voice was so low that it rumbled in his chest and reverberated through Tam's back. "But I doubt you'd want me wishing your family ill." He paused, then added, "Besides, ultimately their loss is my gain. We both come from places that didn't properly appreciate us."

Although Tam couldn't let go of the reins, his mount needed no directive for the time being. He gathered them loosely in one hand and twisted in the saddle so that he could be at least mostly face-to-face with his favorite person. "We can just appreciate each other, then," he said, reaching up to touch his fingertips to Dorian's jaw and draw him down into a kiss.

When they parted, Dorian winked. "Oh believe me, I intend to _appreciate_ you at every opportunity." At Tam's immediate blush, he laughed. "You really are adorable."

"The first time you called me that, I thought you were just being patronizing," Tam admitted. He twirled the end of Dorian's mustache with his fingertip and smiled. "You probably were, actually. But now I know you mean it, and in some ways that makes it even more embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Dorian feigned shock, leaning back and moving his head out of Tam's immediate reach. "Then I suppose I'll have to keep saying it until you _stop_ being embarrassed. I'll shout it from the towers of Skyhold: 'my boyfriend is the most adorable creature on the planet!'"

Tam blushed darker, though warmth spread not just into his face, but rode his pulse all the way out to his fingers and toes as well. "You'd really say that? You'd tell them I'm your... your boyfriend?"

It was difficult to tell, but Tam thought he saw a dusting of red over Dorian's cheeks. "Yes, well... that's what you are, aren't you? Unless you'd rather I not go telling anyone."

"No!" Tam exclaimed immediately. Realizing he'd gripped a handful of Dorian's shirt in his fist, he let go and smoothed out the wrinkles. "It's not that at all," he explained. "I'm just... happy." He turned his face up to Dorian's again. Even if he'd wanted to, there would have been no way to stop the smile that blossomed over his features. "I'm honored to be your boyfriend, Dorian."


	11. Prompt #11: "I told you so"

**Prompt:** 11\. I told you so  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Carver/Merrill (Carver Hawke and Merrill)  
 **Warnings:** None

Logically, Carver knew he had nothing to worry about. It wasn't even that _difficult_. All he had to do was walk over to Merrill and ask if she wanted to go get a drink with him sometime. Simple, straightforward, and unlikely to be rejected. She did like him, after all. At least... she laughed at his jokes and didn't tell him to go away, or call him Junior, or compare him to his brother.

But maybe she was just being patronizing in her own sweet, innocent way. Maybe she only had eyes for Garrett - just like everyone else who met the elder Hawke. Carver scowled. Everything was always about Garrett. Most people had even gone so far as to drop his first name all together, as if there wasn't more than one 'Hawke' they could possibly be addressing. It had happened too many times in the past where Carver liked a girl and she only wanted to get closer to him to meet his brother. He couldn't help being afraid that it would go the same way this time, too.

But she was just so cute. The field where they'd all stopped to rest was carpeted in grass and a profusion of little white and yellow daisies, and while everyone else had been sitting around talking and dozing (in some cases), Merrill had plopped herself down in a big patch of flowers. He couldn't hear her from the distance, but her mouth moved almost as much as her fingers. She plucked flowers and wove them, creating beautiful plaits and chains of daisies. It reminded Carver of when Bethany used to do the same, back when they were children. But compared to Bethany's earnest, childish attempts, these were like art.

Borrowing from the warmth of that memory and trying to squash down his nerves with his very real admiration, Carver approached.

"Yes, thank you very much," Merrill was saying as he came into earshot. "I promise that you will look lovely here. I've no doubt that he will appreciate your beauty as the star in his crown." Her fingers danced and twisted, weaving the flower into her creation. She kept speaking as she picked the next one, again praising it for its beauty and thanking it for allowing her to use it. It was so wildly endearing that Carver couldn't quite stifle a chuckle. Startled, Merrill looked over her shoulder at him. "Is something funny?"

"What? No, nothing," Carver said, hoping she believed his honest answer. "It's not that it's funny, not at all." He walked closer, trying to avoid stepping on the blossoms as much as he could, in order to crouch at her side. Up close, he was able to see just how intricate her work was. "Seeing you like this just made me happy. Whatever you're making, it's really pretty. Do you, er... do you like flowers, then?"

"Oh yes! Don't you like flowers, Carver? They're such happy things. Even when the rest of the world is gray or brown, flowers are a bright spot of color." Merrill smiled, stroking the tiny petals of her most recent pick. "I've been trying to grow them in the alienage. Some take better than others, of course, but I think people will really start to like it once they're established."

Admittedly, Carver had never really thought of it that way. But he did remember the little pops of color that flowers had provided around Lothering before the Blight, whether those flowers would eventually become fruits and vegetables, or medicine, or simply for decoration. He'd just never bothered to pay them much mind. "I think that will be nice," he said. "Kirkwall doesn't have many flowers. It could use more of them."

"It needs them!" Merrill agreed, setting down her work for a moment in order to gesture animatedly. "The whole city is just stone and dirt and more stone! It's quite depressing after a while. Even the _vhenadahl_ isn't enough to make the alienage feel like home."

"When we, er..." Carver paused and swallowed back the sudden flutter of butterflies that started in his stomach and threatened to fly out of his mouth. "When we get back to Kirkwall, is there some way I can help you with your flowers?"

Merrill's big green eyes sparkled and she clasped her hands. "I think so. That's very kind of you, Carver. Maybe you could help me make some more boxes for planting them in? I've brought in some dirt from Sundermount, and there's a perfect place just outside my home where I think I could grow sunflowers."

Her face was like the sun itself, shining so brightly. Carver would have agreed even if he didn't know one end of a hammer from the other. Fortunately, he'd had enough experience with carpentry as a farm boy to be able to back up his volunteering. "I can absolutely make you a planting box, if that's what you'd like. A-and afterward, maybe you'd like to go out and get a drink with me?" Carver inwardly cursed at how his voice rose at the end of his question. At least the days of his voice breaking and squeaking were behind him.

"That would be lovely!" Merrill gave another dazzling smile and bent to her work again. Her fingers moved quickly to tie stems together and form a circle with her plaited flowers.

Somehow, Carver resisted the urge to celebrate his successful job at asking her out. Between knowing he'd have to explain his excitement to her, and even worse, seeing Garrett's 'I told you so' smirk, he was able to tamp his joy down to a space somewhere deep inside him instead. It did distract him for a moment, so when Merrill made a small exclamation it took him by surprise and brought him back to the present.

"There!" Merrill held up her carefully crafted crown of flowers for Carver to inspect. "What do you think?"

Carver's glee soured somewhat, knowing she'd made the masterpiece for his brother. But he did his best to sound happy for her. "It's beautiful. You've done wonderful work."

"It really isn't anything special," Merrill demurred. "But it's quite pretty thanks to the flowers." She climbed to her feet and dusted off her knees. Before Carver could rise as well, she leaned over and settled the garland over his brow. "Oh! It fits perfectly!"

Careful not to jostle the flowers he now wore, Carver stood up. "This is-- for me?"

Merrill pushed her dark hair back out of her face and nodded. "Of course. It's a thank you from me and from the flowers. Together we'll make sure there are plenty of flowers in Kirkwall for everyone to enjoy."


	12. Prompt #12 "Watch me"

**Prompt:** 12\. Watch me  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris), Tamvir Lavellan (Pavellan implied)  
 **Warnings:** None

It was hard to imagine someone like Hawke. He was everything that Varric's Tale of the Champion promised, but _better_. Tam didn't know how to explain it; he simply was. Hawke was the best of every trait he'd been painted. He was charming, funny, handsome, and strong, not to mention incredibly smart. Just looking at him was like looking at the truest form of what a _leader_ ought to be.

And then there was Tam.

Never had Tam's own shortcomings been spelled out for him in such stark contrast as at Halamshiral. The Winter Palace was filled to bursting with the highest elite. They were fancy. They were educated. They were capable of not only _wearing_ their uncomfortable dress shoes for an entire evening, but _dancing_ in them as well. Tam felt as gangly as a halla and just as out of place. His ears burned from snatches of overheard gossip, and more than once he was mistaken for a servant.

Retreating to a more out of the way spot well off the dance floor, Tam took a glass from a passing server and let his attention drift. He was supposed to be watching for intrigue or anything suspicious, after all. Not that Leliana likely expected much, knowing how far out of his element Tam really was. But he _was_ in a unique position of being able to go mostly unnoticed. Nobody expected 'just another rabbit' to be the Inquisitor, after all.

Hawke, on the other hand, couldn't walk more than a few yards without being swarmed. Judging by Fenris's expression, the other elf would have preferred Tam's anonymity. But he still stuck close to Hawke, and it didn't escape Tam's notice that they were hand in hand or arm in arm at every possible opportunity. It was kind of Hawke to lend his strength like that. It made Tam wish he could bring himself to lean on Dorian, but he was too afraid of drawing attention or causing a scene. He was The Inquisitor whether he liked it or not, and he needed to make a good impression. Or at least as good an impression someone like him was capable of.

Tam took his eyes off of Hawke and Fenris for a moment, instead casting them downward to inspect the shiny toes of his highly polished knee-high boots. Once again he thought about how this had been a mistake. He was a poor excuse for an Inquisitor and they all deserved so much better. They deserved someone more like Hawke, who could demand attention in the center of the crowd, rather than a nondescript Dalish who melted away at the fringes.

When Tam looked up again, he spotted Hawke dancing with an elderly woman. She practically led the dance herself, much to Hawke's apparent amusement. Fenris was nowhere to be seen. Most likely he'd been surrounded by partygoers who wanted to get a closer look at his markings. Tam winced slightly in sympathy.

"Are you miserable, too?" Fenris asked from beside Tam's elbow. The untouched glass of wine in Tam's hand nearly hit the floor in his surprise; the liquid in it sloshed perilously close to the rim, but a short burst of frantic fumbling rescued the situation by a hair's breadth. He even managed to avoid snapping the delicate stem. Fenris exhaled a short puff of breath that may have been a laugh, but cleared his throat so quickly that it was impossible to tell.

"I'm not sure what you mean," Tam said diplomatically. "I am simply taking the opportunity to enjoy the surroundings and immerse myself in the atmosphere."

That time he was certain that Fenris chuckled. "Of course you are," he agreed easily. "Lying doesn't suit you, Tamvir."

Tam blushed and ducked his head slightly, his ears pulling in close against his skull. "I'm surprised you left Hawke," he said rather than continuing the subject and having to admit Fenris was right. "Is that Lady Mantillon he's dancing with?"

"Yes. Sharp old biddy." While there was clearly no love lost between Fenris and the Dowager, there was a note of respect in his voice. "At least she has no chance of adding him to her long list of dead husbands."

"Hawke is very loyal," Tam agreed. "That's why it startled me that you're here instead of with him. I didn't think he'd let you out of his sight."

"I'm the one who keeps an eye on him, not the other way around." Fenris smothered the smallest quirk of a smile before it could grow.

Before he could think better of it, Tam blurted the question on the tip of his tongue. "How does he do it? All of..." he gestured helplessly, " _this_."

Fenris gestured and Tam quickly handed over his glass of wine. After taking a sip and grimacing, he shrugged. " _This_ is just Hawke. He's one of those strange people who can walk into a room and get all eyes onto himself without trying." His eyes narrowed slightly and he studied Tam. "Why? Even if you could imitate him, it wouldn't suit you. You weren't made to act a fool like him."

Tam wanted to protest, but he knew Fenris had a point. He could try to imitate Hawke, certainly, but that wasn't him. He just wished he could mimic just a tiny portion of that incredible, easy confidence. How long he stared at Hawke, he wasn't sure, but when the dance ended Hawke met his eyes and grinned. Tam flushed and dropped his gaze to his boots again.

Hawke made his way over to Tam and Fenris, sweeping an arm around Fenris's shoulders as soon as he was close enough to do so. "Hello, Tam. Having fun with all this pomp and bullshit?"

Tam looked up in shock, hoping nobody around them had heard Hawke's not at all lowered voice. He wanted to melt into the floor when he saw a half-dozen masks turned in their direction. "Oh. Er, that is..." he stammered, the words scattering like startled birds.

"This is nothing," Hawke assured him. "You've just gotta pick your position and stick with it. Here, I'll show you. Just watch me." He leaned over and kissed the side of Fenris's head. Fenris patted Hawke's chest in mingled affection and warning.

Following direction was easy enough. Tam watched Hawke walk away, Fenris in tow, while other partygoers parted to let them through. If all it was was just focusing on one thing and committing to it, maybe Tam could follow suit. Maybe he could walk through the crowd instead of slinking along the edge to try to find the garden where he'd left Dorian earlier.

What did he have to lose?


	13. Prompt #13: "I missed this"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continued from Prompt #04 and Prompt #08. Final in the multi-part chain.

**Prompt:** 13\. I missed this  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** FenHawke (Garrett Hawke and Fenris)  
 **Warnings:** Mentions and vague description of sex. Non-explicit.

They'd all collapsed after their eventual, blessed return from the Fade. Merrill had been overwhelmed with emotion, but had cared for all four of them for the full day they were out of commission afterward. Both couples had been inseparable; every time Hawke saw Kieris and Zevran, they were tangled up with each other having quiet conversations. They never stopped touching any of the times he saw before they all parted ways.

Hawke was pretty sure they'd viewed him and Fenris as being the same way. He hadn't wanted to let Fenris go for any reason, as if not touching him would cause everything to vanish into the swirling mist of another nightmare. He was still reluctant to let them part. Thankfully Fenris seemed to feel exactly as he did, sticking close and riding double with him when they sneaked out of the city the following night.

They put as much distance between themselves and Kirkwall as they could before stopping. Even then, their pauses were only as long as they had to in order to make sure the horse was rested. They didn't talk much. They didn't need to.

When they were far enough for both of them to feel comfortable, they spent an entire day in the warmth of an inn room. Hawke paid for the best room they could get, food delivered to the room, and extra blankets. He cared not one whit what anyone else might think about the requests.

They slept most of the time, but there was some spent doing exactly what the proprietor probably expected. The first time was fast and needy, passionate and demanding. It was a collision of bodies that desperately needed each other with no thoughts about anything more than satisfying the physical demand. Past that first go was slower and gentler, easily paused by long, drugging kisses that ended with soft declarations of love.

In the comfortable haze of the afterglow, Fenris lay on Hawke's chest. Every breath Hawke made moved his smaller form, making him rise and fall to Hawke's rhythm. Fenris didn't seem to mind. He looked like a sated cat, all curled up and with half-lidded eyes. Eventually, however, he rolled off in order to cuddle up to Hawke's side with his head on Hawke's shoulder. Hawke did make a small noise of disappointment, missing the warmth covering his body, but had to admit that the position was far better for snuggling properly.

"I missed this," Hawke murmured. "Not the sex. Well, the sex too, of course. But _this_." He curled his arm tighter around Fenris, pulling him even closer against his side. " _You_."

Fenris made a low, non-committal hum before lifting his chin enough that he could look up into Hawke's eyes. "If you didn't leave me behind and then go getting yourself into life-threatening danger, you wouldn't have to miss it." His tone was just as indifferent as the previous hum, but Hawke knew him well enough to hear the tension running just beneath it.

It would have made perfect sense for Fenris to be furious with him. Hawke had been the one to leave Fenris behind, after all. He wouldn't blame Fenris a bit if he wanted to punch him in the face for doing it. But Fenris didn't hit him beyond a very light, gentle thump to Hawke's chest just over his heart. And then he swung himself up to straddle Hawke again, arms snaking beneath the bigger man's neck to hold him as close as possible without them actually merging into one being.

"Don't leave me, Hawke," Fenris whispered hoarsely.

Those four little words cut deeper and hurt worse than any punch. Hawke winced, involuntarily curling in on himself and around Fenris's body. He held Fenris just as close as Fenris held him, both of them squeezing hard enough to make the other start to wheeze after a few moments too long. "I won't," Hawke promised. He put every ounce of conviction into his voice. "Leaving you behind was the biggest mistake of my life. I will never willingly leave you alone again."

Fenris gave a heavy sigh and melted against Hawke's chest. He nuzzled under Hawke's chin, lightly closing his teeth over the delicate skin there without actually biting. He didn't say anything; he didn't need to. The understanding was there and what they'd said was everything that had to be said about it. And for now they could continue on without words, relying on the bond between them that only grew stronger the more time they spent together.


	14. Prompt #14: "You better leave now"

**Prompt:** 14\. You better leave now  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Cremisius Aclassi, Grim  
 **Warnings:** Transphobia

The Bull's Chargers were a rowdy bunch. They originated from all over Thedas, each with their own unique tale of how they met The Iron Bull and got recruited into his little band. As time went on and they hauled each other out of scrapes and danger, they grew closer and closer. They became a tight-knit, unflappable little family. And even if they occasionally had their internal disagreements, they would fight to the death for each other against anyone else.

Crestwood was not Krem's favorite place in Thedas, but it did help that the infernal rain was finally starting to let up. At least it was no longer the kind of downpour that soaked through to the skin within seconds. The Chargers had stayed behind at the fortress of Caer Bronach to make sure everything was taken care of before leaving everything to the forces there. Krem and Grim, however, had made the trek into Crestwood proper in order to help with some of the requests of the townspeople who were just trying to get their lives back in order.

Krem was more than ready to return to Skyhold, where the beds were dry and the drinks were more than just colored water. "Just a few more days of this piss," he said with a laugh, cuffing Grim on the shoulder. The taciturn man just grunted in agreement and swallowed another mouthful of the stuff. "Could be worse, I suppose. Chief'll make sure we're paid well for all this."

As Krem sunk into silence again, listening to the much lighter patter of the drizzle that had moved in with the coming of night, one of the other patrons lurched unsteadily to his feet. The man had been sitting in one place for so long that it was almost surprising to find he wasn't passed out there. He swaggered over to where the two Chargers were sitting and thumped his tankard on the table, sloshing the liquid within but not losing any over the rim.

Nonplussed, Krem leaned back in his chair and looked up into the man's rugged face. It was shadowed by long, stringy hair and a beard that had seen better days. Though he looked somewhere around middle-aged, he still had the muscular arms and shoulders of someone who worked hard every day of his life and wasn't about to stop anytime soon. "What'd you say?" he demanded after a long moment of trying to stare Krem down.

Krem lifted his eyebrows and coughed to hide his instinct to laugh. "Nothing worth getting so worked up about. How about we pick up your next round and you tell us some stories of the area? I'm sure you've got a few." Usually all it took was another drink to defuse a situation. Sometimes it didn't work, but _usually_ it did.

But sometimes there was just no defusing someone who wanted to explode.

"I don't gotta listen to some _little girl_ complain 'bout the brew my wife's brother made with his own two hands," the man growled. "We were doin' just fine afore the Inquisition marched in. Attitudes like yours aren't welcome here."

Krem's eyebrows skyrocketed at the insult. It wasn't the first time, and likely wouldn't be the last, but every time someone used it he found himself startled by the absolute _vitriol_ behind it. "Calm down, grandfather. There's no need to turn this into a fight." From the corner of his eye, Krem saw Grim's body go tense. Grim was a man of few words but had no such restrictions on his actions.

"So smug in your stolen armor. Get back to your proper place, bitch." It was easy to see the moves before they happened, even with the added layer of venom the man kept spitting. He raised his hand to aim a backhanded strike to Krem's face, even going so far as to take a lunging step forward to add momentum to it. At the same moment, Grim surged to his feet and shot out his arm to grab the man's wrist.

Grim slid around behind the man and took the arm along with him. Curling the limb into an awkward position, he used the momentum that had been directed at Krem to instead slam the farmer face down into the table and hold him there. Judging by the string of curses that leaked from him, it was obvious that the man hadn't expected them to outwit his clumsy attack. Grim looked at Krem over the man's prone form and gave a questioning shrug.

It was tempting to give the asshole a good smack with the pommel of a sword and leave him outside in the rain. Maker knew that the man deserved that and worse. But Krem sighed and shook his head. "Nah. He's not worth the bad blood."

Another shrug and Grim released the man, who straightened up and rubbed his twisted arm. Before he could start spouting off again, Grim caught his eye with a flat, terrifyingly intense stare. He opened his mouth, a rarity in and of itself, and spoke more words than Krem had ever heard from him all at once. "I think you'd better leave now."

The farmer glared back at Grim, eyes cutting briefly in Krem's direction, and retrieved his discarded mug. "Bitches like you aren't worth the trouble," he grumbled, as if he was the one letting them off the hook as he shambled quickly away.

Krem pushed down the adrenaline rush that always overtook him when dealing with those sorts of people. Along with it, he stifled the wave of gratitude toward his compatriot. It wasn't like Krem couldn't handle the people who decided it was up to them to give him shit, but knowing Grim had his back so thoroughly was a heartening reminder. Grim said nothing more, returning to his quiet and his drink as if nothing had happened. Krem smiled slightly and tapped the side of his tankard to the other man's. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Grim grunted in response. But Krem could see the return smile at the corner of his mouth.


	15. Prompt #15: "Not interested, thank you"

**Prompt:** 15\. Not interested, thank you  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
 **Warnings:** Casual Orlesian racism

Making his way through the throngs of masked guests, Tam tried to hold his head high and pretend he belonged there. The faked confidence lasted all of a single room; as soon as he made it to the door, he was back to skirting around the edges of the walls again. He just couldn't handle the way people stared and how the ladies whispered behind their fans.

Even if he had every right to be there, that knowledge didn't stop him from feeling out of place. He longed for a tree he could climb and disappear into until the festivities were over. Maybe he could get up on the roof without Leliana finding out? Unlikely. And even if he could, then he'd feel guilty for not fulfilling his role as the Inquisitor. He needed to see and be seen, to mingle and let himself be measured by all these self-important strangers.

Tam suppressed a shudder and made his careful, stealthy way to the garden. Dorian should be there somewhere, charming everyone he met with his sparkling wit and silver tongue. Many in attendance seemed curious to meet the 'evil Tevinter magister'. From the twittered gossip Tam had briefly overheard before, Dorian was almost as much of a novelty as he was himself. To the Orlesian nobility they were a pair of pigs that had been trained to do tricks for their enjoyment.

A small knot of people were standing and chatting directly in front of the doors that led out to where Tam wanted to go. The large, open window nearby was a tempting alternative to having to push past them. If Leliana or Josephine heard that Tam had been seen climbing through windows, though, it wouldn't be good. A new frisson of anxiety passed through him and he clenched and unclenched his hands. He tried to settle himself with a deep breath and put his shoulders back, remembering what Hawke had told him. Pick your position and stick with it. He just had to _pretend_ that he had every right to be there and politely scoot past them. Easy.

The group continued to block the exit, so Tam had no choice but to push past them. It was a little surprising that nobody else had yet. "I beg your pardon," he said, trying to sound more confident about it than he actually felt. None of them even glanced in his direction. Before his courage could flag, Tam pushed past the nearest of them and walked through to the garden.

That was, of course, just what was required for the man he'd unavoidably bumped into to notice he was there. "Excuse you!" he huffed, the barely visible portion of his face beginning to flush at Tam's audacity.

"The very nerve!" the woman holding his elbow agreed. "The Empress is giving her rabbits far too much leniency."

"What do you expect from a woman who bedded one?" one of the others added with a sniff of disdain. "Someone should be keeping track of the servants. Will one of you report this rude little knife-ear, or must I do everything myself?"

"Wait!" The second woman in the group threw out one hand to stop the man who'd made the suggestion. "Boy, what is your name?"

Tam desperately wanted to just run and hide and leave them to complain amongst themselves. But they'd seen him, and they _knew_. He cleared his throat and looked the young woman in the eye through her mask. "I am Inquisitor Tamvir Lavellan," he said. Surely the title would lend him some of the stature he knew he didn't have on his own. "And I apologize for any offense." He bowed slightly and turned to make his exit. As much as he wanted to run, he kept his steps calm and even.

"I knew it!" the second woman exclaimed. She hurried after Tam in order to grab his hand and bring him to a halt. "Inquisitor, won't you stay and chat with us? I have been so very curious about the mysterious and magnificent leader of the new Inquisition."

The first couple who'd insulted Tam looked taken aback, and the other man had an expression of undisguised disgust. He closed his mouth with an audible click and attempted to school himself with little success.

"My apologies," Tam tried. "I'm supposed to be meeting someone--"

The woman attached herself to Tam's arm and stroked the breast of his fancy jacket with her lacquered fingernails. "Surely they can wait? You simply _must_ stay, just for a few moments at least."

Tam was overwhelmed by the strong scent of her perfume, and he shuddered under the provocative touch. Her other hand clamped onto his arm like a vice. "Your offer is very kind, my lady, but--"

Again Tam was interrupted, but this time it was a more welcome one.

"Ah, there you are!" Dorian called, lifting a hand in greeting as he approached. "I was wondering where you may have gotten delayed, amatus." Although he smiled broadly, there was a possessive aura that radiated from him. He slid his hand into Tam's free one and pulled him easily away from the Orlesian lady.

Tam was grateful for the rescue. He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, only to be knocked even more off balance with Dorian's next actions.

Dorian swept Tam nearly off his feet, dipping him backward as he'd done in some of their dance practices, and planted a considerably less than chaste kiss on his mouth. Though the hazy white noise that blanked out most of his ability to hear, Tam caught the shocked gasps of those nearest and watching. Dorian stood him back on his feet and Tam held tight to him; if he didn't, he was pretty certain he was going to fall flat on his butt.

Even Dorian's voice came from a distance, his bright smile still plastered to his face. "He's not interested. Thank you. You may go now," he told the group. His arm around Tam's shoulders, he turned the two of them around to walk deeper into the illusion of seclusion offered by the carefully landscaped and manicured garden.


	16. Prompt #16: "I never wanted anything else"

**Prompt:** 16\. I never wanted anything else  
**Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age Inquisition  
**Characters/Pairings:** Kieris Mahariel and Tamvir Lavellan  
**Warnings:** None

The Hinterlands were an objectively beautiful place. If he stayed up in the tree he'd climbed and closed his eyes, Tam could believe he was still with his clan. He leaned against the rough bark of the tree and just let the evening settle around him. The breeze brought with it the smell of vegetation and the smoke from the campfire, and the sound of wildlife was still present under the familiar noise of people talking and setting up camp. There was the hint of a scrape of leather against bark that gave him a warning before another weight joined him on his chosen branch.

"Nice perch," Kieris said, settling himself beside Tam but not quite touching him. Tam looked the other elf up and down, noting the tension in his shoulders and the little line between his dark eyebrows. "I'm glad the Blight didn't take out too much around here. Even Redcliffe was able to rebuild what it lost."

Tam hesitated, but nodded. "I've read about some of the things you did during the Blight. It was one of the first things I tried to research after getting pulled into... well, all of this." He gestured to the scenery around them with his left hand and wiggled his fingers to draw attention to the currently-dormant mark in his palm. "I thought maybe reading about another Dalish who'd been in the wrong place at the right time would help me understand things a little bit."

Grinning ruefully, Kieris shook his head. "Did it? Somehow I doubt any of my muddling around would be useful to anyone." His smile faded as he turned his gaze to the darkening horizon and away from Tam. "We screwed up so many times. Thought we were dead on multiple occasions. Somehow we got through, but we've all got a batch of scars to show for it."

"Does it ever get less strange for people to know who you are?" Tam asked. He laced his fingers together and looked down at them - at the mark. It gave a tiny flicker of green as if responding to his attention, then went dark once more. "People who know you on sight even though you've never met them, who've _read_ about the things you've done. Or hearing stories of your supposed exploits just walking through a crowd."

"It's _always_ weird," Kieris confirmed. "Eventually for me it got a little easier to ignore, but it never stops being weird. I'm lucky enough not to really stand out, though. Unlike you." He gestured to his hair, pitch black and decorated with only a single little unadorned braid that was tucked behind his left ear. Tam, on the other hand, knew that his coppery locks were likely bright as a beacon in the last light of the sun.

"Lucky me." Tam crinkled his nose, the tips of his ears drooping. Kieris scooted closer and slung an arm around his shoulders. The gesture was surprisingly comforting.

"Nah, don't get too down about it. Once all this is over with, they'll remember what you did but the won't remember _you_ too much." Kieris paused a moment and then mirrored Tam's nose-crinkle, his own long ears swiveling backward. "As long as you don't go calling attention to yourself. So don't accept any weird Warden-Commander promotions or anything like that."

Tam couldn't help but chuckle at the embarrassed exasperation in Kieris's voice. It was clear that Kieris held just as much enjoyment of being 'famous' as Tam did, but at the same time they were both just as stubborn about doing everything they could to be the best at what they'd been shoved into. "What was it like in your clan?" he asked suddenly, resting his head on Kieris's shoulder and watching the sun set.

"Mm." Kieris took a deep breath and let it out, clearly gathering his thoughts before he answered. "It was peaceful, for the most part. We traveled, we hunted, we avoided the shemlen as much as we could. Back then, I never wanted anything else. It was just me and my friend Tamlen getting into trouble." He paused and exhaled a laugh that was more of a sigh. "Funny how I seem destined to be around Tams, no?"

"And I'm likely to get you into trouble if you stay around me," Tam added, trying to cheer him up. It worked. This time, Kieris's laugh was far more real.

"You know, I'm alright with that." Kieris released his hold on Tam and gave his hair an affectionate ruffle. "If there's anything I can do as someone who's had the fate of some part of the world on his shoulders before, you know I'll help you out. Us Dalish brothers have gotta stick together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delayed updates. Please note the rest of the prompts will likely be sporadically posted. My mother in law is currently dying of cancer and it's taking a heavy toll on myself and my wife. If you're in touch with your family, please take a moment to tell them how much you love them.


	17. Prompt #17: "Give me a minute or an hour"

**Prompt:** 17\. Give me a minute or an hour  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan), Leliana  
 **Warnings:** None

The Fallow Mire was a favorite of no one. Even Dorian's usual desire to be at Tam's side was strained to the limit when a particular job required them to head into the filthy, fetid marsh. Instead, Tam had ventured off to take care of business alongside his sister and The Iron Bull. When Tam returned, however, Dorian was immediately there at the gates to greet him. If he didn't know that the library tower gave a view of the path up to the fortress's entry, Tam would have wondered if Dorian had some sort of precognitive spells that had foretold his return, his timing was so perfect.

"You're back!" Dorian exclaimed from the top of the stairs. "Well, amatus, aren't you just a sight for sore eyes?" He began to descend, but stopped short. Tam smothered the urge to laugh at the look of utter shock and horror on his face. "What _happened_ to you?"

All three figures, as well as their mounts, were absolutely filthy. From the soles of his bare feet to the muddy tangle of his normally bright hair, Tam looked like he'd gone swimming in a mud puddle. Which, essentially, he _had_. He grinned sheepishly at Dorian and dismounted. "We had to go wading and it dropped off deeper than expected," he explained. "Bull was the only one able to keep his head above water."

Dorian flapped his hands at Tam and then in the direction of the keep. "Ugh and it _stinks_. Get inside, quickly. We'll have a bath drawn for you immediately."

Tam saw Lasani and Iron Bull exchange a knowing glance. Lasani caught him looking and smirked, but said nothing to deter him from heading off. In fact, she even made a little shooing motion. Rather than looking a gift horse in the mouth, Tam blushed beneath his layer of dirt and hurried up the remaining steps to join Dorian.

Dorian nearly lost his balance in his rapid backpedaling. His acrobatics to keep Tam from touching any of his fancy clothes were enough to make Tam have to smother a laugh. "Don't worry, I won't touch you until I've had a chance to wash up. I do miss my usual greeting, though."

"Yes, I owe you a kiss," Dorian agreed. "When you don't stink like something rotten. Phew!" He covered his nose and mouth with one silken sleeve and ushered Tam to go ahead of him.

At least being covered in mud and smelling like the mire meant there were no interruptions on their way up to Tam's quarters. Once they were safely away from prying eyes, Tam was heavily tempted to tease Dorian somehow - from something as simple as a hand on his sleeve to something as risque as pinning him up against the door and taking the kiss he was owed. But even in private, there were some things that Tam still couldn't quite manage to do.

As if reading the potential mischief in Tam's slight hesitation, Dorian gingerly set his fingertips against Tam's back and gave him a light push. "Bath," he ordered. "No funny business until I can stand beside you without gagging."

Tam laughed but nodded. "Alright, alright. I'm going." Resisting the urge to _do it anyway_ , Tam headed up into his room and began stripping out of his befouled armor. Just as he tossed his breastplate aside, dropping it into the little pile of other items he'd already removed, there was a knock at the door.

It was only a cursory knock. The door started to swing open before Dorian had made two steps toward it. "I will assume I am not yet interrupting anything?" Leliana asked, though Tam could see that she was politely looking directly ahead and not seeking either of them out.

Dorian moved to the meet her at the top of the steps. Tam, on the other hand, stayed where he was. But he did turn to pay attention. "What is it?" Tam asked.

"Something dire, no doubt," Dorian answered immediately. "Isn't that always the case? Not even back long enough for a _bath_ after the last mission and already the world will end if he isn't immediately called someplace else."

From his vantage point it was difficult to tell for sure, but there was a second where Tam was reasonably certain he saw a smile try to curl the corner of Leliana's lips. "I was aware there hadn't yet been enough time passing since his arrival, which is why I knew I wouldn't be interrupting anything."

Dorian huffed softly and Tam had to smother a smile of his own. Undeterred, Dorian lifted his chin a fraction and looked down at the Inquisition's spymistress. "No, but he's still in no shape to be going anywhere just yet. Trust me - you wouldn't want to be in an enclosed room with him for long. But that will be taken care of if you just give me a minute." He paused and glanced over his shoulder at Tam, his eyes doing a quick but obvious sweep from head to toe. "...Or an hour," he amended with a grimace.

"You drive a hard bargain, Dorian, but I think you'll have all the time you need." Looking past Dorian, Leliana gave Tam a smile and a nod. "Tamvir, I saw you come in and wanted to tell you that we have much to discuss. I've made sure that Josephine has cleared your schedule tomorrow, so please report straight to the rookery in the morning."

Tam had been steeling himself for a long evening of itching for a good washing-up while going over every nuance of what he'd seen in the Mire - plus whatever news Leliana may have obtained. It was a relief to hear that he'd be able to tackle that later after basic needs were met. "I'll be there," he promised. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Of course," Leliana said graciously. She turned to leave, but stopped and glanced back at Tam again. "If it had been me, I would have mussed that pretty hair of his just to hear the indignant noise he'd make." She winked and left, Dorian's shocked and offended gasp following in her wake.


	18. Prompt #18: "You don't see it?"

**Prompt:** 18\. You don't see it?  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age 2  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Isabela, Varric Tethras, Fenris (FenHawke implied)  
 **Warnings:** Double-entendre and mild insinuations

The more time Fenris spent in Kirkwall, the more he found himself gravitating toward The Hanged Man in the later hours of the day. Sometimes even when the sun was up, he would still make his way into Lowtown and the dim interior of the tavern. It certainly wasn't the piss-poor drinks that drew him there, so there had to be another reason.

Eventually, Fenris grudgingly admitted that he kept coming back because he wanted to see certain people. He liked hearing Varric's wild stories and Isabela's equally tall tales. Sometimes Merrill talked about life with her clan, and even if their beliefs clashed on certain topics, Fenris's imagination would still pick up the thread she offered and spin lush tapestries of forests and cities all over Ferelden. They gave him things to think about when he was alone - as he preferred to be - in his borrowed home.

"--Which was how I ended up in the middle of Denerim with three bottles of expensive rum, a Chantry sister's amulet, and no trousers," Isabela said, finishing her current story to a roar of laughter from Varric. Fenris snorted and hid a grin by taking a drink.

"Well played," Varric said approvingly. "I think the only other person who could talk themselves into a situation like that would be Hawke."

"Or out of it," Isabela agreed. "Hawke could talk a lot of people out of a lot of things, trousers very much included."

"He could." Varric hummed quietly and shrugged. "But he won't. We all know he's too far gone to do anything like that now."

Isabela sighed heavily and propped her chin on her palm, swirling her tankard in her other hand. "Yes. A pity that ship set sail without me ever getting to board it."

"What are you talking about?" Fenris asked. He set his drink down in front of him and cradled it loosely in his hands. "Has Hawke gone somewhere?" Nobody had mentioned anything like that before now. Fenris had seen Hawke only the night before, walking Dog around their Hightown neighborhood after dark. It was something of a ritual of Hawke's. Sometimes Fenris would stay just inside the door and watch them slowly make the rounds until they traveled out of sight; he was lucky that Dog had never given him away.

Varric and Isabela exchanged a look that immediately raised Fenris's hackles. They knew something he didn't.

"Hawke's not gone," Varric said. "Isabela was being rhetorical."

"I'm waxing poetic. Can't you let me enjoy talking about Hawke's mainmast for a little bit? I'm sure it's strong and thick." Isabela's full lips quirked up in a smirk. That was when it clicked for Fenris.

His face grew hot, but he tried to stifle it with a fist to his mouth and a clearing of his throat. " _Ah_. I should have guessed, considering it's you."

Isabela shrugged, agreeing with him with body language alone. "I may also be fishing a bit. Tell me, Fenris. Is it every bit as impressive as I'm certain it is?"

"What?"

"Hawke, of course! Or are you one of those boring types who refuses to kiss and tell?" Isabela planted her elbows on the table and leaned over them, displaying a generous view of her ample assets. Out of the corner of his eye, Fenris saw Varric pick up the pen that had been laying next to his notebook.

"I don't have any idea what you're referring to," Fenris said stiffly. That was a lie, of course. He knew perfectly well what Isabela was insinuating. He just didn't want to talk about it. Fenris did like Hawke, enough to have woken up sweating and desperate a time or two after a particularly vivid dream. But his interest was _private_ , not to mention unreturned.

Varric snorted and scratched a few notes. "Hawke would. The number of times I've caught him staring at you when he ought to be watching his own back - well, he's just lucky I've got Bianca and she never misses."

"I would have thought the two of you would have done something about that by now." Isabela slumped back in her seat, arms crossed. "If he'd looked at _me_ that way I'd have jumped him in a heartbeat."

Fenris's brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of his friends. They liked to make amusement, yes, but they wouldn't lie about something like this. "Hawke... looks at me differently?"

"Really? You don't see it?" Isabela shook her head in disbelief. "Fenris, for someone as intelligent as you are, you can really be dense. Hawke has looked at you that way since the first time he met you."

Fenris's face heated again and he averted his gaze. He hadn't seen it, of course. But the surety of Isabela's and Varric's belief in what _they_ had seen was enough to give him pause and allow his imagination to get away from him for a moment. What if they were right?

What then?


	19. Prompt #19: "I can't do this anymore"

**Prompt:** 19\. I can't do this anymore  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Kieris Mahariel and Tamvir Lavellan  
 **Warnings:** None

Tam groaned and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, thoroughly tousling the once carefully tamed strands. He'd been allowed a break to collect himself in between meeting delegations. Just ten minutes to breathe, to re-settle, and to regain the poise that everyone expected out of the Inquisitor.

That had been nearly half an hour ago.

As guilty as Tam felt, he couldn't bring himself to leave the shadows of the roof where he'd hidden. The thought of facing all those people again, of being the center of attention and judged from every angle, made his head swim and his stomach roll like the waves off the Storm Coast. He pulled his knees up to his chest and hid his face against them to quell the feelings. "I can't do this anymore," he murmured into the expensive fabric of his trousers.

There was the briefest scrape of leather on stone, a hint that Tam wasn't alone, before he was joined in his private hiding spot. "If you ask me, I don't blame you a bit," Kieris said. He moved the boots Tam had abandoned in order to sit down beside him, nearly touching but still giving that last hint of space.

"Did they send you to come get me?" Tam asked, flinching at the guilt in his voice. His ears pinned back, their points drooping toward the ground. "Josephine is probably angry."

"I think she understands more than you give her credit." Kieris clasped his hands in his lap and looked up at the night sky rather than at Tam. "I'm not _officially_ out here to look for you. But if I happen to find you, I'm supposed to let her know that you're okay."

Tam sighed. In a way he was relieved, but at the same time that just made him feel worse. "I can't do it," he said again. "I can't go out there and perform like some kind of... of... trained dog. Or _rabbit_ as the Orlesians would say." He hated how bitter he sounded; bitter, scared, and angry.

"First of all," Kieris said firmly. His tone made Tam look up to find him looking him square in the eyes. "Don't ever use that word like that again where I can hear you. If you don't treat yourself with respect, they'll feed off that and make it worse. Trust me." He stuck out his tongue in a brief disgusted expression before sobering again. "Second, if they don't like you, _fuck 'em_."

Kieris laughed at the way Tam's eyes widened in shock and he patted the smaller elf's shoulder. "It's not your job to make everyone like you. That's Josephine's department. Sure, if you don't act like an ass that makes things easier, but you're already too nice without killing yourself bending over backward to try to please everyone."

Kieris's hand was warm on Tam's shoulder, and the way his ears shifted and swiveled as he talked was familiar in a way that put Tam more at ease. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that tiny touch of non-verbal communication until he was around another Dalish. After a moment more Tam sighed again and nodded.

"I understand what you're saying. I just don't think I know how to be any other way." Not for the first time, Tam wondered what it must be like to have that kind of confidence. Kieris would have made a far better Inquisitor if Leliana and Josephine had been able to track him down like they'd wanted. Instead they were stuck with Tam. "But I'll keep your advice in mind when--"

Kieris lifted his hand from Tam's shoulder and planted it suddenly over Tam's mouth instead. "Stop. If you insist on trying to tell me what you think I want to hear, then all I want to hear you say is this." He cleared his throat and turned Tam's face toward him before lowering his hand. "I want you to say 'I'm doing my best' and then I want you to say 'and fuck anyone who says otherwise'. Got it?"

At first Tam could only sputter, flapping his hands in awkward denial. "N-no! It's okay, really, I'll get through. I'm just having a bad moment right now. There's no need for, um, _that_."

"You gotta say it," Kieris insisted. He didn't restrain Tam in any way, but there was something in the way he held himself or the way he spoke that conveyed without a shadow of a doubt that he was serious. Tam hated to think what might happen if he refused.

"I, uh." Tam paused and licked his lips. "I'm doing my best," he said quickly. He tried to say the rest even quicker and quieter, the words dissolving into an embarrassed mumble.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you. What was that?" Kieris put a hand to his ear in an exaggerated gesture.

Tam squirmed. "And... and fuck anyone who says otherwise," he finally managed, his cheeks and ears flaming hot even in the cool night air.

Kieris threw an arm around Tam's shoulders and gave him a half-hug that was surprisingly reassuring. He was a little smug, yes, but there was nothing malicious about it. "That wasn't so hard, was it? Now you have something to remember whenever you start sinking into that spiral of thinking you're not good enough. The only people who benefit from you getting down on yourself are the bad guys, remember?"

The touch of lips to Tam's forehead was so unexpected that his brain went blank. Even his sister rarely got so affectionate. But Kieris did it with ease, somehow seeming to impart a little bit of his stability along with it. "You're a good kid, Tam. You can do this."


	20. Prompt #20: "Did I ask?"

**Prompt:** 20\. Did I ask?  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan)  
 **Warnings:** Mature content; non-explicit

Tam licked his lips and tried to calm the flurry of butterflies in his stomach. He had no reason to be nervous; it was just Dorian. They'd done lots of things together before. Even if this was a rather different configuration than what Tam was used to, it was still essentially the same thing. So why was his face so hot, and why was it so difficult to meet Dorian's gaze like he was supposed to?

After a slow breath to steady himself, Tam looked up to Dorian's face. The encouraging smile he found there just made his embarrassment spike even higher, and in one wild, reckless action, Tam harnessed that power and bent it to his will. He narrowed his eyes slightly and planted both palms on Dorian's chest in order to give him a surprisingly strong shove. Judging by the startled expression that crossed the other man's face, Tam wasn't the only one who hadn't expected that.

Still, Tam propelled himself onward. The backs of Dorian's knees hit the bed and he fell gracelessly onto the mattress. Tam didn't stop. He followed and climbed onto Dorian's prone body, sitting atop him in a way that used every ounce of his slight frame to keep Dorian pinned. He even caught hold of Dorian's wrists and held them as tight as he could.

"You asked me before," Tam said softly as he leaned down closer to Dorian's face. His voice was thick with nervousness, but in the moment lent almost a husky quality. "You asked me here in this room, _'how bad does the Inquisitor want to be?'_ , didn't you?" His mouth now close to Dorian's head, Tam ran his tongue along the outer edge of Dorian's ear to feel the other man shiver. "I didn't give you much of an answer at that time."

"You're right, you didn't," Dorian answered. Though the words were glib, they were tense and his voice caught in odd places. "I don't suppose you've thought of a suitable response by now?"

"Mm..." Tam was trying. He really, really was. But it was a struggle to make himself say such things that didn't come naturally. It took him an extra moment of feigned contemplation to be able to force out the words, "You never thought I could be bad in the first place, did you? But let me answer your question with one of my own, Dorian." Tam shifted his seat in order to very intentionally rub against the obvious bulge that had taken up residence in the front of Dorian's trousers. "How badly do you want to put that big c-cock of yours in me?"

The broad grin that slowly spread over Dorian's face made Tam falter and break, his cheeks immediately flaming even as he hurried to cover them with his hands. "D-did I ask that right? I messed it up, didn't I?" He asked and sat upright to put a little space between them.

"You did perfectly. And I think you could keep going if you wanted to try again," Dorian prompted. He bucked his hips slightly, making Tam gently rise and come back down. "Maybe a little less talking and a little more action. You don't seem as bothered by initiating things if you don't have to say the words."

Tam sighed in relief and nodded. "I'm trying," he promised. "It's just so _lewd_!" Dorian's idea for helping to break Tam of at least a little of his shyness wasn't a bad one, even if most would consider it a thinly-veiled excuse to get laid. And maybe it was. But it was a safe space for Tam to attempt to push his own boundaries. He'd just perhaps chosen to start off a little stronger than he was actually ready for.

"Take your time," Dorian assured him. His warm hands gently pulled Tam's away from where they still covered his blushing face. "We have all night, and _I_ am certainly not going anywhere!"

"You'd have a difficult time with me pinning you down," Tam agreed. Dorian's gentle jokes and reassurances were exactly what he needed in order to feel less panicked. Even the things they'd already discussed beforehand were good to hear again in the moment.

Dorian grinned up at Tam. There was heat in his gaze, along with a heavy dose of mischief that was just barely held in check. "If I had a mind to, I could have you flipped over on your back before you even had a chance to make a sound."

"...That's probably true." The grin was infectious, buoying Tam's spirits and helping him slide back into the mood that had been nearly spoiled by his shyness. "But you like me like this. So you won't do that."

"Damn. You know all my secrets and can foil my dastardly plans." Dorian's hands settled on Tam's hips like anchors. It was comfortingly familiar, but at the same time they would only get in the way of Tam's continuing intentions.

Leaning down, Tam caught Dorian's mouth in a long, heated, and enthusiastic kiss. When they parted he touched his lips lightly to the tip of Dorian's nose. "Hands off, ma vhenan. I have an idea that I think you might like."

"I am, as they say, _all ears_ ," Dorian replied with unhidden glee.


	21. Prompt #21: "This, this makes it all worth it"

**Prompt:** 21\. This, this makes it all worth it  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Garrett Hawke, Kieris Mahariel, two goofy mabari  
 **Warnings:** None

For someone who'd been to hell and back, Garrett Hawke was remarkably cheerful. Very few people at Skyhold had even connected the very obvious dots as to who he was - though the ones who had were surprisingly discreet. But considering those were mostly people who worked around the Keep rather than those who stood around like particularly lifelike decorations, perhaps it wasn't so surprising after all.

Hawke stepped out into the crisp air and warm sun. It was cooler here than Kirkwall, but he found he preferred it that way. A quick, sharp whistle brought Dog galloping to his side. Grinning, Hawke waved to the confused stable boy who had been having a go at playing fetch with the friendly mabari. The boy brightened and waved back before returning to his chores.

Dog gave a happy bark and did a little dance around Hawke's feet. Even with how massive Dog was, he moved easily and oddly gracefully in his joyful little steps. The mincing paws did not go unnoticed.

"Nice dog you've got there."

Hawke looked up from Dog's antics to find the Hero of Ferelden walking toward him. At the Dalish elf's side was another mabari, equally cheerful but slightly more _subdued_ \- if such a term could be applied to a mabari. Hawke grinned. "I could say the same to you." Dog sat abruptly, head lifted as regal as any Fereldan statue. A moment later, he dropped into a play-bow and sprinted away.

The other mabari dove after him, the two dogs racing and wrestling in a way that almost resembled two humanoid boys. Hawke lifted an eyebrow at Kieris, who laughed and shook his head. "It's good for him," he said. "Dav doesn't see many other mabari. Not surprising, I suppose, but I can tell he misses them sometimes."

"He was a war dog, wasn't he?" Hawke tried to recall the stories he'd heard about the Hero of Ferelden. During the time that Kieris and his companions were fighting to put an end to the Blight, Hawke had been a refugee just fighting to survive. Some of the stories had made it to the gates of Kirkwall, but most of what Hawke had learned had been after the fact - and significantly embellished, from the sounds of most of them.

"Yeah. But he and the rest of his pack were suffering from the Blight. If we hadn't found a way to keep him alive..." Kieris trailed off and shook his head again. When he looked back up at Hawke, he was smiling in a way Hawke was all too familiar with. It was the 'trying to change the subject from painful memories' smile. "I've heard stories about your dog, as well. Is it true that he's just called 'Dog'?"

Hawke went along with the shift in topic. Better not to pick at old scars without a good reasons. "He is! And before you say anything, we got him when I was young and in my defense you can't name a mabari something they don't want to be called."

Kieris laughed, hiding the flicker of relief that showed briefly in his violet-colored eyes. "No, I'm not judging! I think it's fantastic." He watched the two mabari having a wrestling match that looked more like increasingly strong attempts to shoulder-check each other into a mud puddle. "To be honest, his name isn't much better. Most humans don't realize it basically translates along the lines of 'Licky'."

That took Hawke by surprise, earning Kieris a bark of laughter that turned into a full on whoop. "Oh, that's good! But nobody knows because it sounds fancy and Dalish, right?"

"Davalin," Kieris agreed. The tension that had been building in his slight shoulders eased. He gestured slightly with his head. "Do you want to get a drink? They're both going to wind up in the mud whether we like it or not - might as well leave them to it. And better to have a drink before having to attempt to bathe a mabari."

Hawke crinkled his nose in a grimace. "Good to know that holds true for you, too. Sure. And afterward we can see about requisitioning some of the buckets and towels they use for the horses." He waved Kieris ahead of him in the direction of the Herald's Rest. It might be nice to have a conversation with someone who'd been through his own version of Crazy Shit. Hawke had talked with the young Inquisitor a time or two, but it always felt like trying to give advice to a little brother. Kieris, on the other hand, was on more equal footing.

Kieris was not what Hawke had expected. He'd known the man was Dalish, of course, but aside from that the rumors and stories tended to vary. If it hadn't been for Fenris telling him that the Hero of Ferelden had arrived at Skyhold just a few days previous, and the mabari of course, Hawke probably wouldn't have assumed the unassuming elf with the quick smile was a newly-historical figure. Granted, when they found out who _he_ was, most people were surprised by Hawke, too.

People always expected their heroes to look _heroic_. Not ordinary.

"Have you had a chance to meet Tamvir yet?" Hawke asked, blinking sunspots from his vision as they stepped into the dimmer interior of the building. "I'm sure he'd be excited to meet you."

"I have." Hawke might not know Kieris that well yet, but he could hear the affection in the other man's voice. "He's a good kid. Anxious to a fault and too fixated on pleasing everyone, but a really good kid." Kieris led the way to the bar, greeted Cabot on a one-name basis, and had procured them drinks all before Hawke's eyes fully adjusted.

"I'm glad I wasn't here for the start of all this, though," Kieris admitted. "I know Leliana especially was trying to find me to lead this whole thing. And I can understand _why_ , too." His ears swiveled back in a way that Hawke recognized from when Fenris was uncomfortable. "But this isn't my fight. It's not yours, either. That's why you waited to come too, isn't it?"

"Partly." Hawke took a sip as a way to give himself time to arrange his thoughts. "I didn't want to get involved, initially. I'd already been through more than I ever thought I could handle. I'd carried the future and well-being of one city on my shoulders and barely managed - the fate of the world? No, thanks. But in the middle of all my shit I got tangled up in the beginning of what the Inquisitor is dealing with now." He grimaced and took another drink. "It's only right I get a little involved to deal with that."

At first Kieris just nodded. He glanced around to the other patrons coming and going; a steady business despite it being earlier in the day. The tavern was obviously a gathering place for all sorts of people around Skyhold. Mages cautiously mingled with martial soldiers, spies laughed with kitchen maids over a pint. In a way it reminded Hawke of a cleaner, less dangerous version of Kirkwall's Hanged Man. It was an excellent place to get a good view of who in the Keep was open minded enough to enjoy the company of all sorts.

"This," Kieris finally said. "This makes it all worth it, doesn't it?" He gestured to where a young Templar was animatedly telling a story to a pair of enraptured mages. After a moment, all three burst into laughter. The divisions forced by their stations anywhere else were for the moment completely erased. They were just _people_.

Hawke sighed heavily. He could feel the years of fighting sitting on his shoulders like leaden weights, but for the briefest moment, through the laughter of younger people simply having a good time together, it felt a little lighter. "We fight for the world. But we also fight a war for acceptance," he agreed. "For mages, for Dalish, for refugees - for everyone."

"Do you think we can do it?"

Hawke looked at Kieris and locked eyes. With a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips, he nodded. "It won't be easy. But the right thing rarely is."


	22. Prompt #22: "And neither should you"

**Prompt:** 22\. And neither should you  
 **Fanfiction:** Dragon Age Inquisition  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Pavellan (Dorian Pavus and Tamvir Lavellan), The Iron Bull  
 **Warnings:** None

"That was... easy," Tam said, confusion lacing his voice. He looked up at the ancient stone facade that loomed over and around the little party. The roar of the waterfall nearby was just as loud as the susurant winds over the unending dunes outside. Tam's attention came back to the mosaic of strange glass-like shards that had so simply fit into place.

"Dorian, what can you make of this?" He asked. "It looks like it ought to be something."

Dorian stepped up eagerly to get a better look. He ran his fingers lightly over the newly seated shards, careful of their possible sharp edges. "It doesn't look like any civilization I've heard of. This could be a language, but... hm."

"If all else fails, you could always hit it with a hammer," The Iron Bull suggested cheerfully. "I could call the boys back from investigating that cave and we could--"

"That _won't_ be necessary." Dorian stepped back with a faintly smug little huff. The symbols formed by the shards began to glow and shift. As they watched, the glow leapt from the wall and spun around them like a swarm of angry fireflies.

Tam watched them in awe, half-hidden behind Dorian's outstretched arm. "That's incredible, Dorian. How did you do that?"

"Just a mage's touch," Dorian demurred. His eyes followed the path of the lights with wary uncertainty, his satisfaction at having made progress with the door suddenly overwritten. "But be careful, I don't like the look of--"

Before Dorian could finish the thought, the sparks shot past him and slammed rapid-fire into Tam's chest. They pierced straight through the woven leather of his breastplate, leaving no trace behind but sending Tam reeling just the same.

"Tam!" Dorian shouted, mingled with Bull's "Boss!" as the two hurried to steady him.

The elven Inquisitor leaned heavily on both of his companions, panting for breath and looking dazedly at the new opening in the rock face. "Was that... was that there before?" he asked.

"No." Dorian gritted his teeth and the tip of his staff glowed a fierce violet. "Can you stand?"

"I'm okay," Tam promised. "It took my breath away, but I don't _feel_ any different. Maybe it was just testing me."

Bull helped set Tam back on his feet. "Could be. Or it could be something that's going to explode in a few seconds."

"Thank you for that lovely mental image," Dorian snapped. "That is precisely an additional worry none of us needed."

Tam frowned. The sound of his friends' bickering melted away into white noise as he peered into the dimly lit hole in the edifice before them. There was something inside - waiting, watching, calling... it wanted him to keep going. It had something for him, something he desperately needed even though he didn't know what it could possibly be. The only way to know was to go deeper and find out.

A tiny shock of static jolted through Tam's shoulder, slamming him suddenly back into his body. He realized as his vision cleared that he was several meters into the shrine, with Dorian and Bull shouting at him on either side. It was Dorian's magic that had roused him.

"You beautiful idiot, if you don't speak to me this instant I'm throwing you over my shoulder and _carrying_ you out!" Dorian threatened. In the semi-darkness Tam could see the fear in his expression.

Bull appeared less frightened, though he kept smacking Tam's other shoulder hard enough to bruise while shouting his name.

"Ow!" Tam tried to flinch back from both of them. "I'm fine, I'm listening, stop!"

 _"Don't you ever scare me like that again."_ Dorian snagged Tam around the waist and bodily hauled him back toward the light of the entrance. "Walking alone into unknown shrines in the middle of a desert oasis without so much as a by your leave!"

Tam let himself be dragged. He couldn't remember walking. He could only distantly remember that something had been calling to him; something had been seeking him. But whatever spell had clouded his mind had been shattered beyond repair.

"I don't trust that place one bit, Boss," Bull agreed. Once they were safely out in the harsh sunlight, he took Tam from Dorian and swung the small elf up to sit on his broad shoulders. "And neither should you. Just stay up there for a while, alright? At least until we can get the boys back here to start checking out whatever this place is."

"Let's go back to camp," Dorian suggested. He threw a distrusting look back at the dark, yawning entrance. "I mislike the look of this as well. Surely we can find our way back here again with the rest of the Chargers."

The barest whisper of begging, driving need rippled through Tam. If he hadn't been high off the ground with his way barred by two long, sharp horns, he may have gone sprinting right back into the shrine. "...You're right," he said with difficulty. "Let's get away from this place for now."


End file.
